Guards standing stiffly at attention let the stout man into the room. A dozen men and three women sat around the long table. Suits were the order of the day, particularly the more conservative cuts of the finest tailors in Budapest, although two men and two women wore the more flamboyent and avant guard work of Bucharest's fashion designers. Paris was still the fashion capital of the world and Italia refused to take second place, but both admitted that Bucharest produced designs worthy of note. Bucharest's opinion was similarly hauty.
"Your magjesty, ladies and gentlemen," said the stout man in perfect Magyar. Field Marshall Ernest Becker bowed to his monarch and to the cabinet. He was a Saxon, which was to say his ancestors had moved from Germany to Transylvania in the Middle Ages and founded towns. Despite the name, many of the immigrants hadn't been Saxons and in any case it had been more than five hundred years since they had become Hungarians. Still the name stuck.
"Field Marshall, please be seated."
"I would prefer to stand your majesty."
"As you will," said Bela Hunyadi. "Your report?"
"Tensions continue to rise between the Franco-German alliance and Rome. Borders between all three states continue to be closely guarded. Intelligence has revealed a shifting of resources among Roman colonial possessions. In our opinion it is likely that there will be war between those countries in the near future."
"What kind of war?"
"The pattern for the last century has been limited conflicts with colonial possessions changing hands. That maybe the case, with the Franco-Germans trying to establish dominance over Western and Central Europe without fighting a major war."
"And if not?" asked Contantinescu. The slim and elegant Romanian looked ten years younger than he really was.
"No one has fought a major war with modern weapons. There have been minor wars and colonial skirmishes. Everyone is aware of how devastating they can be, but practical experience in their use is limited. If the Franco-Germans find success against Rome, they may push ahead confident of their ability to win such an engagement. The Romans won't surrender their heartland. The conflagration could draw in other nations."
"That's not really the question, is it?" said Constantinescu. "If the Franco-Germans redraw the map of Europe, where does it leave us? Surely they aren't going to go to war against Rome without taking the possible reaction of their neighbors into consideration."
"The German ambassador has been very friendly of late," murmured Bela. "A lot of talk about mutual interests and so forth."
"If Rome falls no one could stop us from taking the Balkans all the way up to Constantinople," said Gabor Ilona. The elegant dark haired woman reached out and took a sip of water from a glass in front of her. "They know we desire those territories and they fall into our sphere of influence. If we were to attack the Romans while they were busy being cut up by the Franco-Germans, they couldn't stop us. Then we form a common front towards Poland and beyond that Russia."
"Greed and self-interest are such reliable bait," said Contantinescu. "And everyone loves a winner. It's not for me to say, but it will work for us. And if they fail, in a small war or a larger one, we have risked nothing and lost nothing. And if the Romans start to win, the same rules apply. Matthias Corvinus ruled for a while in Vienna. Waiting to see who is going to win would suit us well."
STGOD!
Moderator: B4UTRUST
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Cynical Cat
- Arch-Magician
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#26
It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.
#27
February 12, 1930
Addis Ababa, Ethiopian Empire
Heruy Welde Sellase read over the report that a burning wreck had been found by the Vasan in their territorial waters. The Vasan were upset about it, which meant they either weren't involved or were trying some political ploy, but he didn't think the last part was all that possible. Yeggazu had already sent a message home explaining that none of his ships could have been involved in the incident, and while he might not like the Regent he did love his country, he wasn't lying about that. Sellase scratched his chin. "Well, that leaves one option open then. The Mughals screwed up."
Sellase's secretary was still standing in the room, she looked at Sellase. "Would you like to send a message to the Mughals or the Regent, sir?"
Sellase shook his head. "We have no official reason to be involved, but we have plenty of reason to be officially interested, I'm certain Yeggazu will do the right thing, but for now we take no action unless one side comes to us and asks us to mediate."
The woman smiled. "Of course sir. And what of your talks with the Franco-Germans and Rome?"
Sellasu snorted some. "I'll report on that when there is something to report. The Franco-Germans are playing very nice with us, the Romans seem more paranoid than anything else. Not that I can blame them. I wouldn't want France and Germany breathing down my neck either."
Addis Ababa, Ethiopian Empire
Heruy Welde Sellase read over the report that a burning wreck had been found by the Vasan in their territorial waters. The Vasan were upset about it, which meant they either weren't involved or were trying some political ploy, but he didn't think the last part was all that possible. Yeggazu had already sent a message home explaining that none of his ships could have been involved in the incident, and while he might not like the Regent he did love his country, he wasn't lying about that. Sellase scratched his chin. "Well, that leaves one option open then. The Mughals screwed up."
Sellase's secretary was still standing in the room, she looked at Sellase. "Would you like to send a message to the Mughals or the Regent, sir?"
Sellase shook his head. "We have no official reason to be involved, but we have plenty of reason to be officially interested, I'm certain Yeggazu will do the right thing, but for now we take no action unless one side comes to us and asks us to mediate."
The woman smiled. "Of course sir. And what of your talks with the Franco-Germans and Rome?"
Sellasu snorted some. "I'll report on that when there is something to report. The Franco-Germans are playing very nice with us, the Romans seem more paranoid than anything else. Not that I can blame them. I wouldn't want France and Germany breathing down my neck either."
Moderator of Philosophy and Theology
#28
The Consortium's headquarters was in one of the tallest buildings in the world, a massive skyscraper built as an expression of pride and wealth and completed just a year earlier. From a magnificent boardroom the Consortium's leaders could look out over the bustling metropolis of Madagascar City, from the massive industrial district to the crowded harbor.
"Gentlemen, Ladies, let us be about it then, shall we?" the white-haired figure at the head of the table said in his characteristic soft voice. At his words the soft sounds of discussion faded away as the rest of the governing board turned their attention fully to the meeting.
"I trust you have all had an opportunity to read the reports concerning the latest pirate incident between our neighbors to the north." he began, not bothering to refer to the folder placed before him. "Our own shipping has been preyed upon by these pirates, albeit not nearly to the extent that others are suffering."
"Indeed, the combined losses to our shipping firms has been nearly a quarter million Madagascar Dollars this year alone, pinching our revenue stream somewhat for other projects." put in a slender and surprisingly youthful looking woman of Indian descent who was the unofficial Finance Minister. "While we have somewhat made up the loss from other sources." she continued, not having to mention that some pirates did indeed likely use Madagascar to fence their loot, and so long as they paid their taxes and didn't advertise their profession there was nothing the government could really do about them. "We have not made good on all of it, and the increasing tensions is harmful to trade."
"Any indications that any of our local suspects were involved this time?" came from another of the board members.
"None at this time, we're extending feelers through the local businessmen we think are in that trade, but so far they deny involvement." came from a third, the unofficial Interior Minister of the board. "They are likely lying, however, and my sources indicate that they are shorting their payments again."
"Then crack down on them, that's evidence enough." came from the head of the table, to nods from the others. "Better yet, leak what we know of their ship's movements to the Roman's, they are the most likely to crush them without acknowledging our involvement in giving them the information, Roman pride and all that."
"Agreed, gives us deniability and if the businessmen come crawling to us to protect them we will be in a much stronger position to force them to behave themselves and stop causing problems." put in the first woman with a bit of coldness in her voice.
"What about the attacks on our own shipping?"
"We already have increased our trade protection patrols, I do know that Admiral Sato has requested funding for adding a light carrier component to the trade fleet along with additional escorts. The Navy is also proposing very small carriers exclusively for anti-piracy and patrol purposes"
"Do so, if needed shift the strike fleet to assist the trade protection force's operations until the yards can produce the new ships. As for the new ship design, have Sato begin feasibility studies."
"We can put off funding the new quay to pay for it, until the pirate problem is dealt with the increased dock space will likely be idle." put in the Finance minister. "We have been investigating the possibility of funding a project to construct true long-range aircraft for passenger and light freight, we can approach the problem from two different angles as it were."
Another woman spoke up, the somewhat heavyset woman being the unofficial Foreign Minister of the Consortium. "We should also send notes to the various participants reminding them that we have granted them the right of hot pursuit of pirates into our waters and aren't prickly like either the Vasan's or Mughal's in that regard. Doesn't hurt to remind people we are likely the only naval power in these waters to permit such, after all, pirates are the bane to free and open trade."
From there the conversation around the table shifted to other business as the morning wore on.
-----
The older sections of town came in two varieties. Quaint, wealthy neighborhoods with tree lined boulevards and stately mansions were one kind. The other kind were the worn down gutters of the poorest parts of town, near the docks and the main sheltering for the poorest elements of society as well as those who refused to even try to make an honest living.
It was in the latter that the platoon of soldiers were marching, the locals scattering out of their way with a mixture of relief at seeing what was likely the take down of a criminal outfit and fear that it may be THEIR outfit being targeted.
The building they arrived at was indistinguishable from many of it's neighbors, apart from a sign up front. Right near the edge of the dock district, the building advertised itself as a brothel, and indeed several sailors were hanging around the front as the soldiers arrived. The sailors, mostly foreigners, quickly made tracks back towards the docks, sensing trouble in the air.
The platoon came to a halt outside, while the grizzled old sergeant and a fresh-faced young woman wearing Lieutenant's bars strode inside with forbidding expressions.
In the foyer of the building were more sailors, with a heavyset musclebound bouncer guarding a door leading deeper into the establishment.
"Out." Lieutenant Lucia Tarquitius Pulla said coldly, hand resting on the holstered pistol at her side while the much older sergeant, a coal-black man with close cropped white hair, glared impartially.
The sailors scrambled to obey, knowing better than to argue, while the bouncer looked furious. "Whats da meanin' of this girlie?" he snarled, muscles bunching as he stepped forward.
Without batting an eye, the Lieutenant drew her pistol with a single smooth motion, leveling it at the bouncer and pulling the trigger. A single deafening bark filled the air as the bouncer collapsed clutching his throat. From deeper inside the brothel screaming could be heard in response, and moments later the door burst open as the soldiers outside stormed in, passing the officer and sergeant and smashing their way deeper into the building with bayonets fixed.
Lieutenant Pulla holstered her pistol and simply waited, a grim expression on her face. The sound of scattered fighting could be heard deeper inside, followed by bruised and battered 'customers' stumbling out the door and scrambling outside. Ten minutes later things quieted down, and young girls, some not even in their teens yet, started to come out the door, escorted by soldiers. In many cases they were dressed only in a sheet or blanket wrapped around them. Many still had manacles attached, only the broken chains allowing them to move.
Pulla's expression lightened slightly, as her soldiers escorted the young women out of the building, while the Sergeant, if anything, looked even more grim at the visual proof of what had been going on.
"Looks like you were right again, LT." he said in a gravelly voice.
"Not me, Top, Private Winters found out her little sister was kidnapped by these bastards and told me about it." Pulla replied as the small crowd exiting the building thinned. Once the last of the soldiers passed them, the two of them turned to leave themselves. "Will put it down on the paperwork as them blocking employees from enlisting in the military." she continued, not looking back as she emerged back on the street. The platoon was already formed up, in a looser formation with the rescued civilians in the center.
"How many do you think will enlist, Top?" she continued, a bit of whimsy in her voice as the two strode to the front of the formation.
"Most of 'em, the youngsters will have a few years of schooling but it's better than any other prospects for 'em." came the reply.
"Gentlemen, Ladies, let us be about it then, shall we?" the white-haired figure at the head of the table said in his characteristic soft voice. At his words the soft sounds of discussion faded away as the rest of the governing board turned their attention fully to the meeting.
"I trust you have all had an opportunity to read the reports concerning the latest pirate incident between our neighbors to the north." he began, not bothering to refer to the folder placed before him. "Our own shipping has been preyed upon by these pirates, albeit not nearly to the extent that others are suffering."
"Indeed, the combined losses to our shipping firms has been nearly a quarter million Madagascar Dollars this year alone, pinching our revenue stream somewhat for other projects." put in a slender and surprisingly youthful looking woman of Indian descent who was the unofficial Finance Minister. "While we have somewhat made up the loss from other sources." she continued, not having to mention that some pirates did indeed likely use Madagascar to fence their loot, and so long as they paid their taxes and didn't advertise their profession there was nothing the government could really do about them. "We have not made good on all of it, and the increasing tensions is harmful to trade."
"Any indications that any of our local suspects were involved this time?" came from another of the board members.
"None at this time, we're extending feelers through the local businessmen we think are in that trade, but so far they deny involvement." came from a third, the unofficial Interior Minister of the board. "They are likely lying, however, and my sources indicate that they are shorting their payments again."
"Then crack down on them, that's evidence enough." came from the head of the table, to nods from the others. "Better yet, leak what we know of their ship's movements to the Roman's, they are the most likely to crush them without acknowledging our involvement in giving them the information, Roman pride and all that."
"Agreed, gives us deniability and if the businessmen come crawling to us to protect them we will be in a much stronger position to force them to behave themselves and stop causing problems." put in the first woman with a bit of coldness in her voice.
"What about the attacks on our own shipping?"
"We already have increased our trade protection patrols, I do know that Admiral Sato has requested funding for adding a light carrier component to the trade fleet along with additional escorts. The Navy is also proposing very small carriers exclusively for anti-piracy and patrol purposes"
"Do so, if needed shift the strike fleet to assist the trade protection force's operations until the yards can produce the new ships. As for the new ship design, have Sato begin feasibility studies."
"We can put off funding the new quay to pay for it, until the pirate problem is dealt with the increased dock space will likely be idle." put in the Finance minister. "We have been investigating the possibility of funding a project to construct true long-range aircraft for passenger and light freight, we can approach the problem from two different angles as it were."
Another woman spoke up, the somewhat heavyset woman being the unofficial Foreign Minister of the Consortium. "We should also send notes to the various participants reminding them that we have granted them the right of hot pursuit of pirates into our waters and aren't prickly like either the Vasan's or Mughal's in that regard. Doesn't hurt to remind people we are likely the only naval power in these waters to permit such, after all, pirates are the bane to free and open trade."
From there the conversation around the table shifted to other business as the morning wore on.
-----
The older sections of town came in two varieties. Quaint, wealthy neighborhoods with tree lined boulevards and stately mansions were one kind. The other kind were the worn down gutters of the poorest parts of town, near the docks and the main sheltering for the poorest elements of society as well as those who refused to even try to make an honest living.
It was in the latter that the platoon of soldiers were marching, the locals scattering out of their way with a mixture of relief at seeing what was likely the take down of a criminal outfit and fear that it may be THEIR outfit being targeted.
The building they arrived at was indistinguishable from many of it's neighbors, apart from a sign up front. Right near the edge of the dock district, the building advertised itself as a brothel, and indeed several sailors were hanging around the front as the soldiers arrived. The sailors, mostly foreigners, quickly made tracks back towards the docks, sensing trouble in the air.
The platoon came to a halt outside, while the grizzled old sergeant and a fresh-faced young woman wearing Lieutenant's bars strode inside with forbidding expressions.
In the foyer of the building were more sailors, with a heavyset musclebound bouncer guarding a door leading deeper into the establishment.
"Out." Lieutenant Lucia Tarquitius Pulla said coldly, hand resting on the holstered pistol at her side while the much older sergeant, a coal-black man with close cropped white hair, glared impartially.
The sailors scrambled to obey, knowing better than to argue, while the bouncer looked furious. "Whats da meanin' of this girlie?" he snarled, muscles bunching as he stepped forward.
Without batting an eye, the Lieutenant drew her pistol with a single smooth motion, leveling it at the bouncer and pulling the trigger. A single deafening bark filled the air as the bouncer collapsed clutching his throat. From deeper inside the brothel screaming could be heard in response, and moments later the door burst open as the soldiers outside stormed in, passing the officer and sergeant and smashing their way deeper into the building with bayonets fixed.
Lieutenant Pulla holstered her pistol and simply waited, a grim expression on her face. The sound of scattered fighting could be heard deeper inside, followed by bruised and battered 'customers' stumbling out the door and scrambling outside. Ten minutes later things quieted down, and young girls, some not even in their teens yet, started to come out the door, escorted by soldiers. In many cases they were dressed only in a sheet or blanket wrapped around them. Many still had manacles attached, only the broken chains allowing them to move.
Pulla's expression lightened slightly, as her soldiers escorted the young women out of the building, while the Sergeant, if anything, looked even more grim at the visual proof of what had been going on.
"Looks like you were right again, LT." he said in a gravelly voice.
"Not me, Top, Private Winters found out her little sister was kidnapped by these bastards and told me about it." Pulla replied as the small crowd exiting the building thinned. Once the last of the soldiers passed them, the two of them turned to leave themselves. "Will put it down on the paperwork as them blocking employees from enlisting in the military." she continued, not looking back as she emerged back on the street. The platoon was already formed up, in a looser formation with the rescued civilians in the center.
"How many do you think will enlist, Top?" she continued, a bit of whimsy in her voice as the two strode to the front of the formation.
"Most of 'em, the youngsters will have a few years of schooling but it's better than any other prospects for 'em." came the reply.
-
frigidmagi
- Dragon Death-Marine General
- Posts: 14757
- Joined: Wed Jun 08, 2005 11:03 am
- 19
- Location: Alone and unafraid
#29
Nanjing Capital of the Heavenly Kingdon of Serene Peace
David leaned back in his seat. It was a comfty seat cushioned in red, with small gold thread crosses woven in. He needed every bit of comfort he could get during the meetings of the Royal Council. He sighed. Duke Chiang of Shanghai was waxing on again. The man had a serious case of tunnel vision, he seemed to think the universe consisted of Shanghai and threats to it. He wanted more forts, more big guns, more troops, more ships. Especially more battleships.
Shanghai was the greatest port in the Kingdom granted, but there was more to the nation then a single port no matter how great. He already had a full division and more guns then some provinces!
"Enough Duke Chiang. I will consider your request." King Hong David II said forcefully. Minister Sun sighed in relief to his right. The Duke was a hard working man, but ambitious and at times overly forceful. He however was not stupid not to try bullying the king.
"My Lord, I may have a suggestion for your consideration..." offered a minister quietly. David curiously motioned for him to continue.
---- 1 week later---------
Special Diplomat Jiang Delun stood awaiting his audenice with the Prime Minister carrying his insturctions.
David leaned back in his seat. It was a comfty seat cushioned in red, with small gold thread crosses woven in. He needed every bit of comfort he could get during the meetings of the Royal Council. He sighed. Duke Chiang of Shanghai was waxing on again. The man had a serious case of tunnel vision, he seemed to think the universe consisted of Shanghai and threats to it. He wanted more forts, more big guns, more troops, more ships. Especially more battleships.
Shanghai was the greatest port in the Kingdom granted, but there was more to the nation then a single port no matter how great. He already had a full division and more guns then some provinces!
"Enough Duke Chiang. I will consider your request." King Hong David II said forcefully. Minister Sun sighed in relief to his right. The Duke was a hard working man, but ambitious and at times overly forceful. He however was not stupid not to try bullying the king.
"My Lord, I may have a suggestion for your consideration..." offered a minister quietly. David curiously motioned for him to continue.
---- 1 week later---------
Special Diplomat Jiang Delun stood awaiting his audenice with the Prime Minister carrying his insturctions.
"it takes two sides to end a war but only one to start one. And those who do not have swords may still die upon them." Tolken
#30
January, 1930
Off the coast of Tanzania
AS-13
The airship floated over the sky in a pattern that allowed its precious cargo of individuals to perform their duties. The confederation had not as of yet truly embraced air power in the manner that some other nations had done. In Africa, no other nation came close to that of Madagascar in terms of exploiting these new tools. Nonetheless, the confederation was not completely against the technology and thirty six such vessels had been commissioned. All these vessels had been originally conceived as troop transports. Modifications had then been made to exploit the long range and endurance of the airships.
AS-13 was one of those modified Airships. Rather than ferry large amounts of troops, it had been designed into a flying observation post and tasked with patrolling off the coast of Tanzania. Its mission was to keep track of the vessels in the area and report in via radio any and all suspicious activities. It was a thankless job and one that left AS-13 relatively exposed to a host of potential dangers from the weather to the possibility of hostile fire. Still, there had been precious few incidents over the last three years and the information that could be gathered was potentially invaluable. The first information on the capabilities of the Ethiopian battleships had been derived through a series of long range observations by six different air ships at separate times.
AS-13 carried out its duty sticking to its flight pattern and letting the men and women it carried perform their duties. The original design of the airship had barely been adequate to perform its task, dozens of men and women armed with binoculars and telescopes. Those designs had been refined with time, until currently AS-13 and all of its current generation sisters were remarkably adept at carrying out their duties. They were on the outside not much different than any other airship which was intentional. Under normal circumstances, the airships took off at night so they could not be readily observed and landed at night for similar reasons. Ten such ships were assigned to Tanzania while ten where assigned to Nigeria. The rest were scattered as observation platforms along the northern and southern borders of the confederation. Ultimately, the value of these vessels would be gauged by the information they managed to secure from the potential enemies of the Confederation.
January, 1930
Nigeria, United States Embassy
Terrence Bezwick was a thirty three year old male with light blonde hair, striking blue eyes and a smile that would make women weak at the knees. He presented himself with a dashing, mischievous streak that had broken hearts in various northern states back home. It was also the reason that he currently found himself in his circumstances.
What do you expect when you sleep with the daughter of an Admiral?
The thought made its way to the surface of his mind and then disappeared almost immediately into the depths. The memory of that night still lingered in his mind. He had not expected the young woman in question to have been so flexible, but he had also not expected to have been caught. Least of all he had not expected that her father was one of the most powerful military men in the United States. Her father's connections had stretched all the way to the vice president himself. He still recalled the meeting, Alan Vicious in the flesh sitting across from him. The most hot-blooded man in politics alone in a room with him.
"So tell me Terrence. How was Helena in bed? I expect that a woman with a body like that would know how to use it." The vice-president remarked.
His eyes had nearly popped from his sockets. Still, once the eyes of the Vice-president had fallen upon him he had not even considered lying. "Uh, she was very...energetic Mr. Vice-President sir. I was somewhat taken aback by her enthusiasm."
The vice-president nodded. "Good to know Terrence. I am sure that her teacher is proud to hear that." He said somewhat absent mindedly before he added. "Unfortunately for you, the good admiral was not very pleased to have found you two in the act. I happen to be a friend of the family and as such, I have been asked as a favor to the family to make an example out of you."
Terrence found himself breaking into a cold sweat. "An example sir?"
The vice-president chuckled. "yes son. An example. Thankfully for you, less than fifteen minutes after the admiral called me her daughter reached out to me as well. Apparently, you made quite an impression on the lady. She begged me for leniency and I am usually partial to indulging my students. As such, I have come up with an assignment for you than should keep all involved satisfied."
Terrence blinked as the vice-president spoke and found himself leaning forward as he waited for his fate to be decreed to him. "And that assignment is what sir?" He managed to push through his lips.
"You are being given a promotion. You are becoming our ambassador to the African Confederation. The place itself is barely civilized, but the last batch of battleships that the nation managed to build raised some eyebrows. They are almost as good as ours, which is saying something. As such, you will be our representative. You will keep your eyes and ears open, and please inform us if they keep building those ships or anything else of note."
He remembered his jaw dropping as the word "promotion" was said before he winced slightly at the nation in question. He managed to recover in time to utter the party line. "It is an honor and privilege to serve sir."
The Vice-President laughed softly. "I am sure it is son. It was the most elegant solution to our problem I am afraid. A good looking, all american man like you won't find any good looking pussy for a while. That is what will please the admiral the most."
Terrence winced and sighed before he shook his head. "I know that this is better than I expected sir. So I am not going to complain. When do I start?"
The vice-president looked genuinely impressed for a moment before his left arm moved and the gold watch that snared his wrist was inspected. "you have twenty four hours from the moment this conversation ends. Get your affairs in order, grab what you need and be ready for transport within that time."
Terrence took a deep breath and held it. "yes sir."
The memory faded as quickly as it came and Terrence groaned. That had been four years ago and he still had not been allowed back home. This morning, he had received instructions from Washington regarding a potential situation that was developing back home. His instructions had not been terribly detailed, but he understood their meaning and he knew his duty. Within fifteen minutes of having received and read his instructions, he began the steps to reach out to the local government. The bureaucracy of the Confederation was really not as difficult as one would expect. Not after having four years of getting used to it.
The interests of the United States and those of the Confederation rarely intersected. The Confederation was not a colonial power, all of its holdings were located in Africa and it showed neither the desire nor the inclination to expand its sphere of influence. The United States had no African holdings and as such, it seemed that the American Embassy was little more than a formality. Terrence was however, aware of one potential point of convergence. It was a point that was now being stressed by his superiors. The Confederation was predominantly catholic, a remnant of the days when most of the now Confederate territories were under the banner of Spain. If the United States and Mexico went to war, would the Confederation come to the aid of Mexico?
His orders were to explore all options pertaining to that sobering possibility. After an hour, he began to worry. All of his attempts to establish contact with the usual sub-ministers were getting him nowhere. It was as if a significant chunk of Confederate diplomatic core decided to go on vacation or go have lunch together somewhere. After the second hour, his frown deepened. His calls were not being returned, and he ordered several staff members of the embassy to go and ascertain if something unusual had happened. After the third hour, he began to wonder if he was being deliberately avoided by his diplomatic counter parts.
What sort of message are they trying to send me? That they will come to the aid of the Mexicans?
Exactly four hours after he had begun to reach out to his counter parts he received a phone call. The phone rang only once before it was picked up. "Terrence Bezwick, Ambassador to the United States." He heard himself say.
"Ambassador, it has come to our attention that you have made repeated attempts to communicate with the minister of state. We apologize for the delay in getting to you, but I am afraid that the minister is quite occupied. He left this morning to have a meeting with the prime minister. I am unable to tell you exactly when he will be available, however, if you wish to speak with one of the sub-ministers I will be happy to schedule a meeting."
Terrence frowned as the beautiful female voice informed him of the situation. A meeting with the prime minister? Dealing with a sub-minister? Why had she told him so much? In his four years of being placed here, he had always met with the minister of state directly. What had changed? He hesitated for only a moment before he replied. "Oh, I was not aware that the minister had left. It is no significant matter, I will wait for his return."
"Of course Ambassador. I will make sure that he knows to reach out to you as soon as he is able. Have a good day." The female voice cheerfully replied before the line went dead.
Terrence stayed quiet for two minutes after the conversation ended before he stood and disappeared into his office. He immediately began to work on a message to be delivered back home. The situation in Africa had taken a turn towards the unpredictable.
Off the coast of Tanzania
AS-13
The airship floated over the sky in a pattern that allowed its precious cargo of individuals to perform their duties. The confederation had not as of yet truly embraced air power in the manner that some other nations had done. In Africa, no other nation came close to that of Madagascar in terms of exploiting these new tools. Nonetheless, the confederation was not completely against the technology and thirty six such vessels had been commissioned. All these vessels had been originally conceived as troop transports. Modifications had then been made to exploit the long range and endurance of the airships.
AS-13 was one of those modified Airships. Rather than ferry large amounts of troops, it had been designed into a flying observation post and tasked with patrolling off the coast of Tanzania. Its mission was to keep track of the vessels in the area and report in via radio any and all suspicious activities. It was a thankless job and one that left AS-13 relatively exposed to a host of potential dangers from the weather to the possibility of hostile fire. Still, there had been precious few incidents over the last three years and the information that could be gathered was potentially invaluable. The first information on the capabilities of the Ethiopian battleships had been derived through a series of long range observations by six different air ships at separate times.
AS-13 carried out its duty sticking to its flight pattern and letting the men and women it carried perform their duties. The original design of the airship had barely been adequate to perform its task, dozens of men and women armed with binoculars and telescopes. Those designs had been refined with time, until currently AS-13 and all of its current generation sisters were remarkably adept at carrying out their duties. They were on the outside not much different than any other airship which was intentional. Under normal circumstances, the airships took off at night so they could not be readily observed and landed at night for similar reasons. Ten such ships were assigned to Tanzania while ten where assigned to Nigeria. The rest were scattered as observation platforms along the northern and southern borders of the confederation. Ultimately, the value of these vessels would be gauged by the information they managed to secure from the potential enemies of the Confederation.
January, 1930
Nigeria, United States Embassy
Terrence Bezwick was a thirty three year old male with light blonde hair, striking blue eyes and a smile that would make women weak at the knees. He presented himself with a dashing, mischievous streak that had broken hearts in various northern states back home. It was also the reason that he currently found himself in his circumstances.
What do you expect when you sleep with the daughter of an Admiral?
The thought made its way to the surface of his mind and then disappeared almost immediately into the depths. The memory of that night still lingered in his mind. He had not expected the young woman in question to have been so flexible, but he had also not expected to have been caught. Least of all he had not expected that her father was one of the most powerful military men in the United States. Her father's connections had stretched all the way to the vice president himself. He still recalled the meeting, Alan Vicious in the flesh sitting across from him. The most hot-blooded man in politics alone in a room with him.
"So tell me Terrence. How was Helena in bed? I expect that a woman with a body like that would know how to use it." The vice-president remarked.
His eyes had nearly popped from his sockets. Still, once the eyes of the Vice-president had fallen upon him he had not even considered lying. "Uh, she was very...energetic Mr. Vice-President sir. I was somewhat taken aback by her enthusiasm."
The vice-president nodded. "Good to know Terrence. I am sure that her teacher is proud to hear that." He said somewhat absent mindedly before he added. "Unfortunately for you, the good admiral was not very pleased to have found you two in the act. I happen to be a friend of the family and as such, I have been asked as a favor to the family to make an example out of you."
Terrence found himself breaking into a cold sweat. "An example sir?"
The vice-president chuckled. "yes son. An example. Thankfully for you, less than fifteen minutes after the admiral called me her daughter reached out to me as well. Apparently, you made quite an impression on the lady. She begged me for leniency and I am usually partial to indulging my students. As such, I have come up with an assignment for you than should keep all involved satisfied."
Terrence blinked as the vice-president spoke and found himself leaning forward as he waited for his fate to be decreed to him. "And that assignment is what sir?" He managed to push through his lips.
"You are being given a promotion. You are becoming our ambassador to the African Confederation. The place itself is barely civilized, but the last batch of battleships that the nation managed to build raised some eyebrows. They are almost as good as ours, which is saying something. As such, you will be our representative. You will keep your eyes and ears open, and please inform us if they keep building those ships or anything else of note."
He remembered his jaw dropping as the word "promotion" was said before he winced slightly at the nation in question. He managed to recover in time to utter the party line. "It is an honor and privilege to serve sir."
The Vice-President laughed softly. "I am sure it is son. It was the most elegant solution to our problem I am afraid. A good looking, all american man like you won't find any good looking pussy for a while. That is what will please the admiral the most."
Terrence winced and sighed before he shook his head. "I know that this is better than I expected sir. So I am not going to complain. When do I start?"
The vice-president looked genuinely impressed for a moment before his left arm moved and the gold watch that snared his wrist was inspected. "you have twenty four hours from the moment this conversation ends. Get your affairs in order, grab what you need and be ready for transport within that time."
Terrence took a deep breath and held it. "yes sir."
The memory faded as quickly as it came and Terrence groaned. That had been four years ago and he still had not been allowed back home. This morning, he had received instructions from Washington regarding a potential situation that was developing back home. His instructions had not been terribly detailed, but he understood their meaning and he knew his duty. Within fifteen minutes of having received and read his instructions, he began the steps to reach out to the local government. The bureaucracy of the Confederation was really not as difficult as one would expect. Not after having four years of getting used to it.
The interests of the United States and those of the Confederation rarely intersected. The Confederation was not a colonial power, all of its holdings were located in Africa and it showed neither the desire nor the inclination to expand its sphere of influence. The United States had no African holdings and as such, it seemed that the American Embassy was little more than a formality. Terrence was however, aware of one potential point of convergence. It was a point that was now being stressed by his superiors. The Confederation was predominantly catholic, a remnant of the days when most of the now Confederate territories were under the banner of Spain. If the United States and Mexico went to war, would the Confederation come to the aid of Mexico?
His orders were to explore all options pertaining to that sobering possibility. After an hour, he began to worry. All of his attempts to establish contact with the usual sub-ministers were getting him nowhere. It was as if a significant chunk of Confederate diplomatic core decided to go on vacation or go have lunch together somewhere. After the second hour, his frown deepened. His calls were not being returned, and he ordered several staff members of the embassy to go and ascertain if something unusual had happened. After the third hour, he began to wonder if he was being deliberately avoided by his diplomatic counter parts.
What sort of message are they trying to send me? That they will come to the aid of the Mexicans?
Exactly four hours after he had begun to reach out to his counter parts he received a phone call. The phone rang only once before it was picked up. "Terrence Bezwick, Ambassador to the United States." He heard himself say.
"Ambassador, it has come to our attention that you have made repeated attempts to communicate with the minister of state. We apologize for the delay in getting to you, but I am afraid that the minister is quite occupied. He left this morning to have a meeting with the prime minister. I am unable to tell you exactly when he will be available, however, if you wish to speak with one of the sub-ministers I will be happy to schedule a meeting."
Terrence frowned as the beautiful female voice informed him of the situation. A meeting with the prime minister? Dealing with a sub-minister? Why had she told him so much? In his four years of being placed here, he had always met with the minister of state directly. What had changed? He hesitated for only a moment before he replied. "Oh, I was not aware that the minister had left. It is no significant matter, I will wait for his return."
"Of course Ambassador. I will make sure that he knows to reach out to you as soon as he is able. Have a good day." The female voice cheerfully replied before the line went dead.
Terrence stayed quiet for two minutes after the conversation ended before he stood and disappeared into his office. He immediately began to work on a message to be delivered back home. The situation in Africa had taken a turn towards the unpredictable.
The Peddler of Half Truths.
"Not OP, therefore weakest." - Cynical Cat (May 2016)
"A dog doesn’t need to show his teeth as long as his growl’s deep enough, his food bowl is full and he knows where all the bones are buried." - Frank Underwood
"Not OP, therefore weakest." - Cynical Cat (May 2016)
"A dog doesn’t need to show his teeth as long as his growl’s deep enough, his food bowl is full and he knows where all the bones are buried." - Frank Underwood
#31
10 Marlborough Street, Westminster Square, Sacramento
3 March 1930
The meeting of Cabinet officials was commenced shortly after lunch. Stephen was at the seat of the circular table furthest from the door, with Miguel Taguez Montelbano - Chancellor of the Exchequer - on his right and Lord Reginald Baden-Grey Earl of Preston - Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, commonly the Foreign Secretary - on the other. Robert and Winston were on near opposite sides of the table, fitting given their continued rivalry, and the Home Secretary and Lord Chancellor were also arranged accordingly. The meeting, the customary one at the first Monday of every month, usually delved on all issues; for those attending it ranged between the extremes of heated discussion to utter boredom as matters unrelated to one's office were brought up.
But at least such boredom brought respite from the discussion; for the Prime Minister, there was no such fortune. Stephen was required to remain completely attentative for the entire period, for affairs both key and mundane. Minor issues of tax and regulation were as necessary for him to hear as was the Foreign Secretary relaying notes from the Ambassadors to the other nations of the world.
The briefing on the latter had ended. The Ambassador in Washington, Lord Humbert Cecil Marquess of Salisbury, had confirmed the US government's receipt of various notes relating to trade issues as well as those of His Majesty's Government offering condolence over the violence in the South and the best wishes for the immediate repression of the vile Ku Klux Klan. Other notes on the growing tensions in Europe and on the matter of piracy in the Indian Ocean had been discussed, one such prompting discussion on the dispatch of the 5th Cruiser Squadron from Darwin to aid in hunting the fiends.
"The Army expansion necessary to defend our borders from the hosts of Mexico continues," Winston said to begin his report. "A new Corps worth of motorized troops shall be ready by the winter, as will two Corps of standard infantry, and a number of regiments of varying artillery and accompanying regiments of armoured tractors, combat engineers, and specialist infantry. The Air Force's growing strike force of bombers shall be complete after next New Year's, due to the requirements of training and airfield establishment. The Army is, however, requesting strong consideration for mountain-trained units to be considered for use in our eastern frontier and our foothold upon the island of New Guinea."
"The Army's expenses are great enough," Miguel replied. "You must remember, Sir, that we are also in the midst of efforts to restore the national rail and road networks and to revitalize our economy. The military expenditures you have ordered are great enough."
"We are simply fortunate the Klavostanis have not yet initiated any further naval construction, or we would be mandated to answer," Robert added. "Our nation's vital lifelines across the Pacific are precarious so long as the Klavos maintain their navy, if they begin expanding it..."
"Yet - and I say this with utmost regret - what use is the Royal Navy against the great motorized and armoured hosts of Mexico striking across our deserts?", Winston retorted pointedly. "Will the battleships that the last Government spent so much to construct, which brought His Majesty's Kingdoms so close to economic catastrophe, do anything but ineffectively bombard the coasts of Mexico while their armies storm toward the Colorado? The Navy may protect our lands across the Pacific but without the Army we will lose our most populated and rich territories here in America. And while I have no doubt as to the honestly of President Kincaid's friendly words to us, do you believe the Yankees will tolerate our fall to Mexico without action? They will be forced by circumstance to march west also if we falter here, to secure at least some of our territory from Mexico so that their own nation does not fall into risk."
"Winston, if this is to be another of your pleas to make alliance with the Yanks..." Though not opposed to it necessarily, the last thing Stephen needed was to derail the entire Cabinet meeting in that direction.
"No, Minister, I shall refrain from that line of argument for the moment," Winston answered pointedly. "Though to delve back into foreign matters, I do believe the Government should accept the recent offer from the King of the Taiping."
"Preposterous," Robert raged. "You would have us surrender needed warships for our reserves for some shiploads of trucks?"
"The Taiping King is offering us enough equipment to outfit an entire Corps of Motorized troops," Winston answered. "Such a force is needed if we are to maintain our borders."
"Prime Minister, you cannot..."
"Robert, silence!" Stephen leveled a glare at him and then to Winston. "I understand, Mister Secretary, your desires, and I will discuss with His Majesty the issue this evening when I give him my report on this meeting. He and I shall determine if this Taiping offer shall be accepted."
"And the Xian?", Lord Baden-Grey asked. "What about their inevitable response to such an arrangemnt?"
"We will remind them that His Majesty's Government remains undetermined on the issue of the rightful Emperor of China, and that if they wish us to maintain this lack of determination they will not interfere with our dealings," Stephen snapped forcefully. "Now, if there is anything else?"
The discussion quickly went to other things.
Caroline Palace
The Caroline Palace was the home of the Royal Family while in Sacramento. Named for Queen Caroline, the young wife of King James IV and IX who died in childbirth bearing that monarch's only heir, the future King James V and X, the Palace was worthy of such designation, with expansive grounds not far from the Sacramento River where the main residence of the Royal Family was kept as well as the rooms for their servants and guests and a separate chapel and stable for horses. The Life Guards, one of the remnant horse cavalry regiments, and the King's Own Spanish Guards were providing the current contingent of the King's Guards for the Caroline Palace (the foot soldiers would be rotated amongst the various Foot Guard Regiments, even occasionally using Royal Marines).
Stephen had first been admitted to the chambers of this estate nearly a decade prior, as First Lord of the Admiralty in Sir Alexander Grant's Cabinet, to attend Privy Council Meetings with the Sovereign - then King Henry XI - or to provide His Majesty with desired personal briefings on the state of the Navy. Already his visits as Prime Minister were numbering near the total he'd had entirely as First Lord of the Admiralty. Alexander was proving far more interested in the status of the nation than his father was, and that was quite telling as Henry XI, while maintaining a disinterested air, nevertheless had been quite determined to keep abreast of the policies the Governments of his time were implementing in his name. It was both blessing and curse, as His Majesty was a bright man who had a fresh view on things that professional politicians might not have, but he also would get ideas into his head that were hard to dislodge; impossible if his beloved Queen shared them.
The Queen Larissa, as she often did, joined her husband in meeting with Stephen in the wardroom. It was smaller and more personal than the Council Chambers or Receiving Chambers, the royal couple in comfortable, though still rich, attire of silk shirts and blouses with linen garments. Her Majesty was as beautiful as always, her head radiant with the golden tones of her hair set off by the light above, while Alexander looked quite the serene sovereign even as he sipped at tea. The night was growing late as the mundane matters of the day's Cabinet meeting were remarked upon. Alexander's birthday was to come in six weeks' time and there were some questions about who would be named in the Birthday Honours, the usual host of respected parliamentarians, thespians, scientists, diplomats, and officers being made, as well as foreign figures and princes who would be honored for whatever reason. The Queen took the time to request on any news from the Southern United States; she had been most disturbed to hear of the New Year's church burning in the South and had insisted on sending donations from her own accounts to the reconstruction of the lost and damaged church buildings and to aid those harmed. Stephen had to confess to no new reports; he, honestly, had more important things to worry about, even if he was as aghast at the crime as any other Pacifican.
"There is the matter of the Taiping," Stephen stated. "Secretary Churchill is rather adamant that we accept the deal, but the Admiralty is opposed."
"What are the particulars again?"
"They have agreed to provide us with trucks of a general model, one our own plants can manufacture spare parts for, and other equipment to permit us to man three new motorized divisions. In exchange, we will provide them three battleships from the reserves. The Vanguard, Vigilant, and Monarch are considered the most acceptable by my review of the rolls. They are older vessels, with only 14" armament and older armoring schemes. Their use in a modern naval war is primarily limited to providing shore bombardment aid as a modern vessel's armament and protection is greatly superior."
"The Taiping are aware of this?", Larissa, ever inquisitive, inquired gently.
"I suspect they are, Your Majesty," Stephen answered honestly. "But the Taiping have no need of them for naval battle, I suspect, but to provide them with coastal bombardment capability far in excess of what the Xian can provide."
That, of course, made Alexander's next question seem even more direct. "Would such an arms deal be seen by the Xian Dynasty as our intervention into the affairs of China?"
"Perhaps, and Lord Baden-Grey has already expressed concerns on such. Our volume of trade is already slightly higher with the Taiping than it is with the Xian, and they certainly will not appreciate this new act in favor of their rivals. But three old battleships will not turn the tide of that standoff, Your Majesty, and for the Xian to react very harshly to the issue would obviously run the risks of tipping us to support the Taiping directly. I suspect the Xian will make their displeasure known but the right words and the right behaviours should convince them that we do not intend to alter our policies regarding the dispute over China's Imperial Throne."
"Very well." Alexander gave a nod. "You have Our sanction, Prime Minister, to commence this transaction with the Taiping."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
3 March 1930
The meeting of Cabinet officials was commenced shortly after lunch. Stephen was at the seat of the circular table furthest from the door, with Miguel Taguez Montelbano - Chancellor of the Exchequer - on his right and Lord Reginald Baden-Grey Earl of Preston - Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, commonly the Foreign Secretary - on the other. Robert and Winston were on near opposite sides of the table, fitting given their continued rivalry, and the Home Secretary and Lord Chancellor were also arranged accordingly. The meeting, the customary one at the first Monday of every month, usually delved on all issues; for those attending it ranged between the extremes of heated discussion to utter boredom as matters unrelated to one's office were brought up.
But at least such boredom brought respite from the discussion; for the Prime Minister, there was no such fortune. Stephen was required to remain completely attentative for the entire period, for affairs both key and mundane. Minor issues of tax and regulation were as necessary for him to hear as was the Foreign Secretary relaying notes from the Ambassadors to the other nations of the world.
The briefing on the latter had ended. The Ambassador in Washington, Lord Humbert Cecil Marquess of Salisbury, had confirmed the US government's receipt of various notes relating to trade issues as well as those of His Majesty's Government offering condolence over the violence in the South and the best wishes for the immediate repression of the vile Ku Klux Klan. Other notes on the growing tensions in Europe and on the matter of piracy in the Indian Ocean had been discussed, one such prompting discussion on the dispatch of the 5th Cruiser Squadron from Darwin to aid in hunting the fiends.
"The Army expansion necessary to defend our borders from the hosts of Mexico continues," Winston said to begin his report. "A new Corps worth of motorized troops shall be ready by the winter, as will two Corps of standard infantry, and a number of regiments of varying artillery and accompanying regiments of armoured tractors, combat engineers, and specialist infantry. The Air Force's growing strike force of bombers shall be complete after next New Year's, due to the requirements of training and airfield establishment. The Army is, however, requesting strong consideration for mountain-trained units to be considered for use in our eastern frontier and our foothold upon the island of New Guinea."
"The Army's expenses are great enough," Miguel replied. "You must remember, Sir, that we are also in the midst of efforts to restore the national rail and road networks and to revitalize our economy. The military expenditures you have ordered are great enough."
"We are simply fortunate the Klavostanis have not yet initiated any further naval construction, or we would be mandated to answer," Robert added. "Our nation's vital lifelines across the Pacific are precarious so long as the Klavos maintain their navy, if they begin expanding it..."
"Yet - and I say this with utmost regret - what use is the Royal Navy against the great motorized and armoured hosts of Mexico striking across our deserts?", Winston retorted pointedly. "Will the battleships that the last Government spent so much to construct, which brought His Majesty's Kingdoms so close to economic catastrophe, do anything but ineffectively bombard the coasts of Mexico while their armies storm toward the Colorado? The Navy may protect our lands across the Pacific but without the Army we will lose our most populated and rich territories here in America. And while I have no doubt as to the honestly of President Kincaid's friendly words to us, do you believe the Yankees will tolerate our fall to Mexico without action? They will be forced by circumstance to march west also if we falter here, to secure at least some of our territory from Mexico so that their own nation does not fall into risk."
"Winston, if this is to be another of your pleas to make alliance with the Yanks..." Though not opposed to it necessarily, the last thing Stephen needed was to derail the entire Cabinet meeting in that direction.
"No, Minister, I shall refrain from that line of argument for the moment," Winston answered pointedly. "Though to delve back into foreign matters, I do believe the Government should accept the recent offer from the King of the Taiping."
"Preposterous," Robert raged. "You would have us surrender needed warships for our reserves for some shiploads of trucks?"
"The Taiping King is offering us enough equipment to outfit an entire Corps of Motorized troops," Winston answered. "Such a force is needed if we are to maintain our borders."
"Prime Minister, you cannot..."
"Robert, silence!" Stephen leveled a glare at him and then to Winston. "I understand, Mister Secretary, your desires, and I will discuss with His Majesty the issue this evening when I give him my report on this meeting. He and I shall determine if this Taiping offer shall be accepted."
"And the Xian?", Lord Baden-Grey asked. "What about their inevitable response to such an arrangemnt?"
"We will remind them that His Majesty's Government remains undetermined on the issue of the rightful Emperor of China, and that if they wish us to maintain this lack of determination they will not interfere with our dealings," Stephen snapped forcefully. "Now, if there is anything else?"
The discussion quickly went to other things.
Caroline Palace
The Caroline Palace was the home of the Royal Family while in Sacramento. Named for Queen Caroline, the young wife of King James IV and IX who died in childbirth bearing that monarch's only heir, the future King James V and X, the Palace was worthy of such designation, with expansive grounds not far from the Sacramento River where the main residence of the Royal Family was kept as well as the rooms for their servants and guests and a separate chapel and stable for horses. The Life Guards, one of the remnant horse cavalry regiments, and the King's Own Spanish Guards were providing the current contingent of the King's Guards for the Caroline Palace (the foot soldiers would be rotated amongst the various Foot Guard Regiments, even occasionally using Royal Marines).
Stephen had first been admitted to the chambers of this estate nearly a decade prior, as First Lord of the Admiralty in Sir Alexander Grant's Cabinet, to attend Privy Council Meetings with the Sovereign - then King Henry XI - or to provide His Majesty with desired personal briefings on the state of the Navy. Already his visits as Prime Minister were numbering near the total he'd had entirely as First Lord of the Admiralty. Alexander was proving far more interested in the status of the nation than his father was, and that was quite telling as Henry XI, while maintaining a disinterested air, nevertheless had been quite determined to keep abreast of the policies the Governments of his time were implementing in his name. It was both blessing and curse, as His Majesty was a bright man who had a fresh view on things that professional politicians might not have, but he also would get ideas into his head that were hard to dislodge; impossible if his beloved Queen shared them.
The Queen Larissa, as she often did, joined her husband in meeting with Stephen in the wardroom. It was smaller and more personal than the Council Chambers or Receiving Chambers, the royal couple in comfortable, though still rich, attire of silk shirts and blouses with linen garments. Her Majesty was as beautiful as always, her head radiant with the golden tones of her hair set off by the light above, while Alexander looked quite the serene sovereign even as he sipped at tea. The night was growing late as the mundane matters of the day's Cabinet meeting were remarked upon. Alexander's birthday was to come in six weeks' time and there were some questions about who would be named in the Birthday Honours, the usual host of respected parliamentarians, thespians, scientists, diplomats, and officers being made, as well as foreign figures and princes who would be honored for whatever reason. The Queen took the time to request on any news from the Southern United States; she had been most disturbed to hear of the New Year's church burning in the South and had insisted on sending donations from her own accounts to the reconstruction of the lost and damaged church buildings and to aid those harmed. Stephen had to confess to no new reports; he, honestly, had more important things to worry about, even if he was as aghast at the crime as any other Pacifican.
"There is the matter of the Taiping," Stephen stated. "Secretary Churchill is rather adamant that we accept the deal, but the Admiralty is opposed."
"What are the particulars again?"
"They have agreed to provide us with trucks of a general model, one our own plants can manufacture spare parts for, and other equipment to permit us to man three new motorized divisions. In exchange, we will provide them three battleships from the reserves. The Vanguard, Vigilant, and Monarch are considered the most acceptable by my review of the rolls. They are older vessels, with only 14" armament and older armoring schemes. Their use in a modern naval war is primarily limited to providing shore bombardment aid as a modern vessel's armament and protection is greatly superior."
"The Taiping are aware of this?", Larissa, ever inquisitive, inquired gently.
"I suspect they are, Your Majesty," Stephen answered honestly. "But the Taiping have no need of them for naval battle, I suspect, but to provide them with coastal bombardment capability far in excess of what the Xian can provide."
That, of course, made Alexander's next question seem even more direct. "Would such an arms deal be seen by the Xian Dynasty as our intervention into the affairs of China?"
"Perhaps, and Lord Baden-Grey has already expressed concerns on such. Our volume of trade is already slightly higher with the Taiping than it is with the Xian, and they certainly will not appreciate this new act in favor of their rivals. But three old battleships will not turn the tide of that standoff, Your Majesty, and for the Xian to react very harshly to the issue would obviously run the risks of tipping us to support the Taiping directly. I suspect the Xian will make their displeasure known but the right words and the right behaviours should convince them that we do not intend to alter our policies regarding the dispute over China's Imperial Throne."
"Very well." Alexander gave a nod. "You have Our sanction, Prime Minister, to commence this transaction with the Taiping."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Last edited by Steve on Tue Dec 29, 2009 3:14 am, edited 3 times in total.
Chatniks on the (nonexistant) risks of the Large Hadron Collector:
"The chance of Shep talking his way into the control room for an ICBM is probably higher than that." - Seth
"Come on, who wouldn't trade a few dozen square miles of French countryside for Warp 3.5?" - Marina
"The chance of Shep talking his way into the control room for an ICBM is probably higher than that." - Seth
"Come on, who wouldn't trade a few dozen square miles of French countryside for Warp 3.5?" - Marina
#32
February 13, 1930
Washington, D.C.
"A damn battleship? Have they lost their damn minds? We should blow it out of the ocean Mister President! Not to mention the artillery assets they have within striking distance of Florida!" General Summerall pounded his fist on the desk, his face red.
"I agree General. The German buildup in the Caribbean must not continue. It's in clear violation of our policy and it's like they're spoiling for a fight. I'm sending a missive to the German government to pull out their heavy assets. If they refuse, we will revoke their right of passage through the canal, seize all shipping through the Caribbean, blockading his ports. We're already moving the second fleet into position to intercept anything coming into or out of the Gulf, the third fleet is on maneuvers looking for any shipping giving support to the terrorists down south. The big stitch is Mexico, but they really don't want this conflict in the gulf either."
"With due respect Mister President, I think you're underestimating the situation with Mexico, tensions have been rising since the KKK crossing. All sorts of Mexican units have been on high alert, and they've started reinforcing the border. I think we should do the same and start activating our reserves. We're not going to beat them with just what we have. We can punch through, sure, but we can't hold a damn thing, and we need to push them back to the Rio if we expect to hold anything."
"General, I'm not willing to go to war with Mexico just yet, but reinforce the borders, train the available guns. We'll wait on the reserves until something a bit more serious happens."
****Special Communique to German Government****
The existence of heavy artillery, heavy bombers, and a battleship in the Caribbean is in direct violation of United States Policy. Given the close proximity of these undeniably offensive assets so close to American Soil is unacceptable for what are supposed to be colonial holdings. The United States considers itself responsible for the safety and security of holdings in the region, and any disruption of local peace will overly disrupt the vital trade lanes supported by the Panama Canal. If these disruptive assets are not removed post-haste, an immediate embargo will be enacted, your ports in Caribbean will be blockaded, and any resistance will be considered a hostile act and could directly involve our nations in a needless war."
March 1, 1930
Washington, D.C., Pentagon
The room was well lit, and around the table, numerous individuals with stacks of paper looked at each other.
"Gentlemen, let's discuss the military budget, shall we?"
"We need to properly equip our carriers! Half strength? That is absurd. We should fill their empty space with as many fighter bombers as possible, especially if the Germans refuse to pull out of the Caribbean."
"Agreed. Beyond that, we should look into R&D. I have several projects that need funding, I think you'll find them all fruitful."
"We'll look into it. Now then, Naval construction. Our heavy ships are woefully lacking, and we should consider more carriers."
"Aside from our current hostility with Germany, I'm not sure we can justify that. Increasing production of our ground and air forces should take priority, with the rising tensions with Mexico. We also can't risk that Pacifica won't take advantage of this situation. They could be waiting for a war between Mexico and us, then try to steamroll the both of us after we've bashed each other's heads in."
"Very well, we'll lay down some new hulls, but limit production until we can shore up any shortcomings in the other branches."
Washington, D.C.
"A damn battleship? Have they lost their damn minds? We should blow it out of the ocean Mister President! Not to mention the artillery assets they have within striking distance of Florida!" General Summerall pounded his fist on the desk, his face red.
"I agree General. The German buildup in the Caribbean must not continue. It's in clear violation of our policy and it's like they're spoiling for a fight. I'm sending a missive to the German government to pull out their heavy assets. If they refuse, we will revoke their right of passage through the canal, seize all shipping through the Caribbean, blockading his ports. We're already moving the second fleet into position to intercept anything coming into or out of the Gulf, the third fleet is on maneuvers looking for any shipping giving support to the terrorists down south. The big stitch is Mexico, but they really don't want this conflict in the gulf either."
"With due respect Mister President, I think you're underestimating the situation with Mexico, tensions have been rising since the KKK crossing. All sorts of Mexican units have been on high alert, and they've started reinforcing the border. I think we should do the same and start activating our reserves. We're not going to beat them with just what we have. We can punch through, sure, but we can't hold a damn thing, and we need to push them back to the Rio if we expect to hold anything."
"General, I'm not willing to go to war with Mexico just yet, but reinforce the borders, train the available guns. We'll wait on the reserves until something a bit more serious happens."
****Special Communique to German Government****
The existence of heavy artillery, heavy bombers, and a battleship in the Caribbean is in direct violation of United States Policy. Given the close proximity of these undeniably offensive assets so close to American Soil is unacceptable for what are supposed to be colonial holdings. The United States considers itself responsible for the safety and security of holdings in the region, and any disruption of local peace will overly disrupt the vital trade lanes supported by the Panama Canal. If these disruptive assets are not removed post-haste, an immediate embargo will be enacted, your ports in Caribbean will be blockaded, and any resistance will be considered a hostile act and could directly involve our nations in a needless war."
March 1, 1930
Washington, D.C., Pentagon
The room was well lit, and around the table, numerous individuals with stacks of paper looked at each other.
"Gentlemen, let's discuss the military budget, shall we?"
"We need to properly equip our carriers! Half strength? That is absurd. We should fill their empty space with as many fighter bombers as possible, especially if the Germans refuse to pull out of the Caribbean."
"Agreed. Beyond that, we should look into R&D. I have several projects that need funding, I think you'll find them all fruitful."
"We'll look into it. Now then, Naval construction. Our heavy ships are woefully lacking, and we should consider more carriers."
"Aside from our current hostility with Germany, I'm not sure we can justify that. Increasing production of our ground and air forces should take priority, with the rising tensions with Mexico. We also can't risk that Pacifica won't take advantage of this situation. They could be waiting for a war between Mexico and us, then try to steamroll the both of us after we've bashed each other's heads in."
"Very well, we'll lay down some new hulls, but limit production until we can shore up any shortcomings in the other branches."
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General Havoc
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#33
7 Martius, MMDCLXXXIII Ab Urbe Condita
Panormus, Sicilia
"They requested what?"
Georgius Atticus Rufus Navarchus Suffectus nearly spat his wine all over the telephone as he scrambled upright in his chair and stared unblinkingly at the horrified Ploiarch in front of him. Dead silence reigned for ten seconds or so, before he slowly hung the phone up on its receiver.
"Navarch?" asked the Ploiarch after a short time, but the Greek did not respond, his head bent as he digested the message he had received. Outside the Fleet Commander's window, the forest of gleaming superstructures that represented the bulk of Rome's naval power bobbed slowly at anchor.
"They have instructed us to prepare a relief force for the Antillian Station," said the Navarch Suffectus, speaking in Attic Greek, as was the custom in the Navy.
The Ploiarch, a younger man in his late thirties, an Aragonian whose face bore traces of Moorish blood, only nodded. "So we assumed," he said, his own Greek fluent, but heavily accented. "Did they stipulate the constituent force?"
"Yes," growled the Navarch. "The Marius, the Buonapartus, and the Caesar, will be moving to the Americas in company of Nemesis, Nike, and Poseidon. They'll likely take the bulk of our escort forces with them, as well as the Twelfth Legion and two further squadrons of Aeroplani."
The Ploiarch's look of apprehension turned to horror. "They cannot be serious," he said. "What do they intend to do with such a - "
"The Navarch explained to me that the Consularis Militarium expressed a desire for assurances that in the event of war, Antillia would be protected to the full extent possible. The force specified should be sufficient to sweep any Francian and Germani naval allotments from the seas."
"But... but the Mediterraneus! With what are we to guard our own sea if we must send the bulk of the fleet abroad to protect someone else's?"
"The Senate believes that the Mare Carribicum is our sea as well, or so it would appear." The Navarch Suffectus spat on the ground and continued, his voice bitter with anger. "They trust to the defenses at Calpe to hold the enemy at bay."
"This is madness!"
"Madness?" asked the Navarch, bemused. "This is Rome. The Consularum is obsessed with their Legions, my boy. To them, the concerns of the Navy are secondary indeed. Twenty Five hundred years, and still they do not understand that this Empire of ours has no heartland except the sea. If they do not protect it with the same vigor that they do their vaunted Limes, our enemies will gut us like a sacrificial pig." He shook his head. "This is that fool Sarpaedius' doing."
"What are we to do?"
"Obey," said the Navarch Suffectus. "What else can we do? I will have the fleet prepared to move as soon as the Senate issues the appropriate instructions."
"And when will that be?"
"Once the politics are sorted out, Ploiarch," said the older man. "I would not hold my breath if I were you..."
*---------------------------------------------------------*
Message sent to the American Embassy in Rome:
"The Junior Consul Ordinarious, Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii, wishes urgently to discuss the present geopolitical situation in the Mare Carribicum, insofar as they concern Roman and American interests. We request a conference at the earliest possible convenience of the American Ambassador."
Panormus, Sicilia
"They requested what?"
Georgius Atticus Rufus Navarchus Suffectus nearly spat his wine all over the telephone as he scrambled upright in his chair and stared unblinkingly at the horrified Ploiarch in front of him. Dead silence reigned for ten seconds or so, before he slowly hung the phone up on its receiver.
"Navarch?" asked the Ploiarch after a short time, but the Greek did not respond, his head bent as he digested the message he had received. Outside the Fleet Commander's window, the forest of gleaming superstructures that represented the bulk of Rome's naval power bobbed slowly at anchor.
"They have instructed us to prepare a relief force for the Antillian Station," said the Navarch Suffectus, speaking in Attic Greek, as was the custom in the Navy.
The Ploiarch, a younger man in his late thirties, an Aragonian whose face bore traces of Moorish blood, only nodded. "So we assumed," he said, his own Greek fluent, but heavily accented. "Did they stipulate the constituent force?"
"Yes," growled the Navarch. "The Marius, the Buonapartus, and the Caesar, will be moving to the Americas in company of Nemesis, Nike, and Poseidon. They'll likely take the bulk of our escort forces with them, as well as the Twelfth Legion and two further squadrons of Aeroplani."
The Ploiarch's look of apprehension turned to horror. "They cannot be serious," he said. "What do they intend to do with such a - "
"The Navarch explained to me that the Consularis Militarium expressed a desire for assurances that in the event of war, Antillia would be protected to the full extent possible. The force specified should be sufficient to sweep any Francian and Germani naval allotments from the seas."
"But... but the Mediterraneus! With what are we to guard our own sea if we must send the bulk of the fleet abroad to protect someone else's?"
"The Senate believes that the Mare Carribicum is our sea as well, or so it would appear." The Navarch Suffectus spat on the ground and continued, his voice bitter with anger. "They trust to the defenses at Calpe to hold the enemy at bay."
"This is madness!"
"Madness?" asked the Navarch, bemused. "This is Rome. The Consularum is obsessed with their Legions, my boy. To them, the concerns of the Navy are secondary indeed. Twenty Five hundred years, and still they do not understand that this Empire of ours has no heartland except the sea. If they do not protect it with the same vigor that they do their vaunted Limes, our enemies will gut us like a sacrificial pig." He shook his head. "This is that fool Sarpaedius' doing."
"What are we to do?"
"Obey," said the Navarch Suffectus. "What else can we do? I will have the fleet prepared to move as soon as the Senate issues the appropriate instructions."
"And when will that be?"
"Once the politics are sorted out, Ploiarch," said the older man. "I would not hold my breath if I were you..."
*---------------------------------------------------------*
Message sent to the American Embassy in Rome:
"The Junior Consul Ordinarious, Mustaphus Cemal Paterturcii, wishes urgently to discuss the present geopolitical situation in the Mare Carribicum, insofar as they concern Roman and American interests. We request a conference at the earliest possible convenience of the American Ambassador."
Last edited by General Havoc on Tue Dec 29, 2009 3:09 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair...
Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
#34
March, 1930
Unknown Location
"So gentlemen, it's that time of the year where you convince me as to what is in our nation's best interest to build." The prime minister said dryly as his right hand reached for a tall crystal glass of locally produced rum. The glass was picked up without much difficulty and brought to the prime minister's lips. The contents savored for a handful of seconds before the glass was placed down once more. Silence descended on the small room, the constant motion of the ceiling fan the only sound before a familiar voice dispelled the calm.
"Well, Prime Minister we could use a few more battleships." The voice Alonso Alvarez was firm as he spoke, grey eyes focusing on the prime minister before he offered one of his most dashing smiles.
The prime minister laughed. "Of course Alonso, Of course. You never stop asking for more of your steel monsters to be built Alonso, but they are expensive. Our economy is still feeling the aftershocks from the six sisters that we built last." His left hand moved, a silencing gesture cutting off Alonso before he could offer a response. "I understand their value. Do not think me foolish Alonso. I am certain that their presence has given our potential enemies pause. However, we are talking about a great deal of money here. I am not prepared to guarantee that we will build any more battleships just yet." He went silent for a moment, his eyes lingering on Kabisa.
"What do you think Kabisa?" The african was in charge of the ground forces of the Confederation. His dark chocolate like complexion contrasting sharply with the Olive skinned Alonso.
"We are all aware of the rising tensions in the world. The Caribbean in particular seems to be a potential point of ignition. The navy projects our force, so in this case Alonso may not be as greedy as he seems to be." Kabisa glanced towards Alonso who looked hurt by the comment. "My concern however is to make sure that if our Navy gets our men to a location, they are properly equipped with the best tools at their disposal to win that conflict. Naval guns can only support us up to what, 40 kilometers? After that, we are on our own."
The prime minister nodded as Kabisa spoke. He had always found that particular aspect of the man to be particularly admirable. Kabisa was open and honest with the men that he trusted and he was fair almost to a fault. "Your points are noted. What do you and your people need?"
"I want more money to be made available to research new and innovative ways to allow our men to do their jobs effectively. Our Navy and Air Force are vital tools for the safety of our nation, but ultimately it is the sweat and blood of our army that will safe guard our land. The better equipped our infantry is, the stronger we will be." Kabisa said.
The Prime Minister went silent for a moment. "I see. I have already talked about what acquisitions our air assets require. Our needs in that area are small. I will make available increased funding for various areas of research." He nodded towards Kabisa as he said this. "Alonso, we will start the process of building three more sisters. Let us hope that we will not need them. Now, about the Caribbean..."
Unknown Location
"So gentlemen, it's that time of the year where you convince me as to what is in our nation's best interest to build." The prime minister said dryly as his right hand reached for a tall crystal glass of locally produced rum. The glass was picked up without much difficulty and brought to the prime minister's lips. The contents savored for a handful of seconds before the glass was placed down once more. Silence descended on the small room, the constant motion of the ceiling fan the only sound before a familiar voice dispelled the calm.
"Well, Prime Minister we could use a few more battleships." The voice Alonso Alvarez was firm as he spoke, grey eyes focusing on the prime minister before he offered one of his most dashing smiles.
The prime minister laughed. "Of course Alonso, Of course. You never stop asking for more of your steel monsters to be built Alonso, but they are expensive. Our economy is still feeling the aftershocks from the six sisters that we built last." His left hand moved, a silencing gesture cutting off Alonso before he could offer a response. "I understand their value. Do not think me foolish Alonso. I am certain that their presence has given our potential enemies pause. However, we are talking about a great deal of money here. I am not prepared to guarantee that we will build any more battleships just yet." He went silent for a moment, his eyes lingering on Kabisa.
"What do you think Kabisa?" The african was in charge of the ground forces of the Confederation. His dark chocolate like complexion contrasting sharply with the Olive skinned Alonso.
"We are all aware of the rising tensions in the world. The Caribbean in particular seems to be a potential point of ignition. The navy projects our force, so in this case Alonso may not be as greedy as he seems to be." Kabisa glanced towards Alonso who looked hurt by the comment. "My concern however is to make sure that if our Navy gets our men to a location, they are properly equipped with the best tools at their disposal to win that conflict. Naval guns can only support us up to what, 40 kilometers? After that, we are on our own."
The prime minister nodded as Kabisa spoke. He had always found that particular aspect of the man to be particularly admirable. Kabisa was open and honest with the men that he trusted and he was fair almost to a fault. "Your points are noted. What do you and your people need?"
"I want more money to be made available to research new and innovative ways to allow our men to do their jobs effectively. Our Navy and Air Force are vital tools for the safety of our nation, but ultimately it is the sweat and blood of our army that will safe guard our land. The better equipped our infantry is, the stronger we will be." Kabisa said.
The Prime Minister went silent for a moment. "I see. I have already talked about what acquisitions our air assets require. Our needs in that area are small. I will make available increased funding for various areas of research." He nodded towards Kabisa as he said this. "Alonso, we will start the process of building three more sisters. Let us hope that we will not need them. Now, about the Caribbean..."
The Peddler of Half Truths.
"Not OP, therefore weakest." - Cynical Cat (May 2016)
"A dog doesn’t need to show his teeth as long as his growl’s deep enough, his food bowl is full and he knows where all the bones are buried." - Frank Underwood
"Not OP, therefore weakest." - Cynical Cat (May 2016)
"A dog doesn’t need to show his teeth as long as his growl’s deep enough, his food bowl is full and he knows where all the bones are buried." - Frank Underwood
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Academia Nut
- Adept
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#35
February 13, 1930
To the Vasan state:
We have launched an investigation into the matter you have put before us, and it seems likely that, by your calendar, on the 10th of February, 1930 Anno Domini, one of our warships pursued a pirate craft near your waters. Fearing that they would lose the criminal ship by crossing into your waters, the commanding officer ordered it destroyed rather than risk letting them get away with their crimes. Due to a malfunctioning navigational beacon, they were unsure as to the exact location of the incident and it is possible that the pirate had already crossed the border and with local currents at the time, almost certainly would have drifted in such a way that it would have entered and remained within your territory.
While we regret the loss of life of any innocents aboard, the padshah is adamant that piracy in the region be stamped out at all costs and in the future all ships in pursuit of pirates are under orders to engage and destroy with all possible firepower if continued pursuit is untennable due to international boundaries or weather. The Empire has interests in expanding sea trade and continued predation will no longer be tolerated.
Regards from the foot of the Peacock Throne
#36
March 2, 1930
Addis Ababa, Ethiopian Empire
Makonnen Endelkachew stopped, just out of breath, outside the grand walls of St George's Cathedral. Tafari wouldn't be happy to be interrupted in the middle of his prayers, but this was urgent news. Makonnen opened the doors with a shove and walked inside the glorious Cathedral that was a testament to God's power here on Earth. It was always an incredible sight, though it paled in comparison to the Hagia Sophia, it was still an amazing structure. He didn't have time to dawdle though and he quickly moved to the front of the Cathedral where Tafari was kneeling.
Tafari glanced up as Makonnen stopped next to him. "Yes, Makonnen? What is the matter?" His voice was smooth, unconcerned, but there was a power which commanded even with the lightest of breaths.
Makonnen bowed quickly. "My lord, a message was delivered to the palace. It is from Gugsa Welle."
That caught Tafari's attention and he finished his prayer and slowly got to his feet. He held out a hand and his dear friend placed the message in the waiting hand.
"I see. Who else has seen this message?"
"Nearly every Ras, my lord."
Tafari nodded. "The reaction?"
"No word from Ras Yeggazu or Ras Haymanot. Ras Mangasha has asked for your permission to marshal the armies to defend the capital. Some have openly sided with Welle, many though are waiting to see what happens."
Tafari sighed. "Ras Mangasha has my permission to marshal the Army of the Right to the defense of the capital. The Army of the Left is not to be touched, I do not know how Ras Haymanot will react to this news."
Makonnen nodded. "I feel I must point out, sir. The Army of the Right is currently under-strength as many units are being used as guards for our border and colonies."
Tafari took another deep breath. "Yes, of course. We will need to bring some more men into the forces, so that we can properly mobilize our armies, just in case something like this happens again."
Makonnen considered this. "Considering our current projects, it will be difficult to fit such an order in my lord, but I will do what I can."
Tafari's smile was soft. "I am certain you will, Makonnen. Now if there is nothing else, I would like to get back to my prayers."
"Of course your majesty." Makonnen retreated out of the cathedral once again, it never ceased to amaze him how calm Tafari always seemed to be, no matter what was happening.
Addis Ababa, Ethiopian Empire
Makonnen Endelkachew stopped, just out of breath, outside the grand walls of St George's Cathedral. Tafari wouldn't be happy to be interrupted in the middle of his prayers, but this was urgent news. Makonnen opened the doors with a shove and walked inside the glorious Cathedral that was a testament to God's power here on Earth. It was always an incredible sight, though it paled in comparison to the Hagia Sophia, it was still an amazing structure. He didn't have time to dawdle though and he quickly moved to the front of the Cathedral where Tafari was kneeling.
Tafari glanced up as Makonnen stopped next to him. "Yes, Makonnen? What is the matter?" His voice was smooth, unconcerned, but there was a power which commanded even with the lightest of breaths.
Makonnen bowed quickly. "My lord, a message was delivered to the palace. It is from Gugsa Welle."
That caught Tafari's attention and he finished his prayer and slowly got to his feet. He held out a hand and his dear friend placed the message in the waiting hand.
Tafari read the letter once, and took a long breath before placing the paper back in Makonnen's hands.To the Traitor and False Holder of the Crown
Your affronts to Her Imperial Majesty Empress Zauditu I, to the Grand and Noble Ras of the Ethiopian Empire, to the Solomon Dynasty from which you claim to be a descendant, and to the people who toil for the glory of the Empire. For these reasons, I have sent you this message. You have a week to leave the Imperial Palace and renounce your Regency or I shall remove you by force.
"I see. Who else has seen this message?"
"Nearly every Ras, my lord."
Tafari nodded. "The reaction?"
"No word from Ras Yeggazu or Ras Haymanot. Ras Mangasha has asked for your permission to marshal the armies to defend the capital. Some have openly sided with Welle, many though are waiting to see what happens."
Tafari sighed. "Ras Mangasha has my permission to marshal the Army of the Right to the defense of the capital. The Army of the Left is not to be touched, I do not know how Ras Haymanot will react to this news."
Makonnen nodded. "I feel I must point out, sir. The Army of the Right is currently under-strength as many units are being used as guards for our border and colonies."
Tafari took another deep breath. "Yes, of course. We will need to bring some more men into the forces, so that we can properly mobilize our armies, just in case something like this happens again."
Makonnen considered this. "Considering our current projects, it will be difficult to fit such an order in my lord, but I will do what I can."
Tafari's smile was soft. "I am certain you will, Makonnen. Now if there is nothing else, I would like to get back to my prayers."
"Of course your majesty." Makonnen retreated out of the cathedral once again, it never ceased to amaze him how calm Tafari always seemed to be, no matter what was happening.
Last edited by Charon on Tue Dec 29, 2009 4:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Moderator of Philosophy and Theology
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General Havoc
- Mr. Party-Killbot
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#37
AP Newswire, March 23rd, 1930:
ROME, Roman Empire, In the surest sign yet that the gradually increasing tensions in Europe have reached a new pace, Senior Consul Ivanus Bonomius Mediator today confirmed persistent rumors and announced officially the impending organization of the first new Heavy Legion to be added to the Roman military in over a hundred and twenty years.
"As Rome's responsibilities have grown, so must the means for Rome to meet those responsibilities," announced Consul Bonomius. "Rome represents more than simply a political allegiance, but a guarantee of security and prosperity to those who place themselves beneath our protection. This guarantee is backed not only by the name of Rome itself, but by the physical protection of her invincible legions."
The new Legion, the Seventeenth, is still in the early stages of being formed, and no timeframe was given as to when it might be first deployed, Consul Bonomius responding only that this would occur "soon". No word has been given yet on what legionary standard, title, or symbols might be associated with this new formation.
This announcement confirms weeks of rumors circulating concerning general increases in Roman military spending for the fiscal year of March 1930-1931 over just one year ago, fueled by the decision of the Roman Senate to place renewed orders with three different major Roman Shipbuilding corporations for increased production of the Andreas Dorias-Class of Escort Destroyer, along with rumors that the Senate is considering a second production run of the still-untested Julius Caesar-class Escort Carrier. If true, these announcements point to a stark increase in Roman extra-European striking capabilities in the years to come.
These fresh naval orders come in the wake of bitter debates in the Senate concerning the contracts for these new naval ships. Regnum Marinae Imperialis (RMI), of Naples, the largest shipbuilding concern in the Roman Empire, and the original constructors of the Julius-Caesar Carriers, was widely expected to receive the new contracts in the announcement. However, in an unexpected reversal, the contracts were awarded to newcomers "Tritonia Navale", "The Paralos Corporation", and "Primes Constructorium Africanae," three newcomers on the Roman defense contractors' scene, whose bids were sufficiently impressive to the Roman Military Council to obtain their blessing in the official recommendation to the Senate. RMI's chief executive officer and majority shareholder, Aristoteles Onassus Archon Navales, declined to comment when asked about the surprising decision against his corporation, and RMI spokesmen would only say that they will "release a statement in due course".
Coming in the wake of an official Senatorial debate on the "Caribbean" situation, many military analysts believe that this new legion is destined for deployment in the Roman provinces of Antillia Major and Minor, known to the rest of the world as the islands of Cuba and Jamaica.
ROME, Roman Empire, In the surest sign yet that the gradually increasing tensions in Europe have reached a new pace, Senior Consul Ivanus Bonomius Mediator today confirmed persistent rumors and announced officially the impending organization of the first new Heavy Legion to be added to the Roman military in over a hundred and twenty years.
"As Rome's responsibilities have grown, so must the means for Rome to meet those responsibilities," announced Consul Bonomius. "Rome represents more than simply a political allegiance, but a guarantee of security and prosperity to those who place themselves beneath our protection. This guarantee is backed not only by the name of Rome itself, but by the physical protection of her invincible legions."
The new Legion, the Seventeenth, is still in the early stages of being formed, and no timeframe was given as to when it might be first deployed, Consul Bonomius responding only that this would occur "soon". No word has been given yet on what legionary standard, title, or symbols might be associated with this new formation.
This announcement confirms weeks of rumors circulating concerning general increases in Roman military spending for the fiscal year of March 1930-1931 over just one year ago, fueled by the decision of the Roman Senate to place renewed orders with three different major Roman Shipbuilding corporations for increased production of the Andreas Dorias-Class of Escort Destroyer, along with rumors that the Senate is considering a second production run of the still-untested Julius Caesar-class Escort Carrier. If true, these announcements point to a stark increase in Roman extra-European striking capabilities in the years to come.
These fresh naval orders come in the wake of bitter debates in the Senate concerning the contracts for these new naval ships. Regnum Marinae Imperialis (RMI), of Naples, the largest shipbuilding concern in the Roman Empire, and the original constructors of the Julius-Caesar Carriers, was widely expected to receive the new contracts in the announcement. However, in an unexpected reversal, the contracts were awarded to newcomers "Tritonia Navale", "The Paralos Corporation", and "Primes Constructorium Africanae," three newcomers on the Roman defense contractors' scene, whose bids were sufficiently impressive to the Roman Military Council to obtain their blessing in the official recommendation to the Senate. RMI's chief executive officer and majority shareholder, Aristoteles Onassus Archon Navales, declined to comment when asked about the surprising decision against his corporation, and RMI spokesmen would only say that they will "release a statement in due course".
Coming in the wake of an official Senatorial debate on the "Caribbean" situation, many military analysts believe that this new legion is destined for deployment in the Roman provinces of Antillia Major and Minor, known to the rest of the world as the islands of Cuba and Jamaica.
Last edited by General Havoc on Tue Dec 29, 2009 4:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair...
Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
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Cynical Cat
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#38
March 17, 1930
"More spending on the Army," said Constantinescu. "We're the only major European power without foreign colonies and we're continuing to ignore our Navy."
"Prime Minister," said Field Marshall Becker, "there is a reason the Romans call the Mediterreanean Mare Nostrum. And then there is the French. And the Germans. And we barely have any sea access at all."
"We have ports."
Becker sighed. "We cannot change the past. Has our Navy been neglected? Yes, but now is not the time to change that. France and Germany are rising powers and determined to show the world their might. War is coming and without colonies, it will be land war. Whoever we fight, it will be with rifles, tanks, and airplanes not cruisers. The last two hundred years have made us one of the great economic and industrial powers of Europe but we do not have the money to piss away on battleships that will not save the nation as Europe goes through the bloodiest war in the last hundred years."
"The Vasan-Russian War was pretty bloody."
"That was a trial run, with limited numbers. All of Europe's rivers will run red."
"That's not a cheery thought Field Marshall."
"I would be very happy to be proven wrong, Mister Prime Minister. It is better to have them and not need them than to need them and not have them."
Constantinescu sighed. "You'll have your men."
"Thank you, Prime Mister."
"More spending on the Army," said Constantinescu. "We're the only major European power without foreign colonies and we're continuing to ignore our Navy."
"Prime Minister," said Field Marshall Becker, "there is a reason the Romans call the Mediterreanean Mare Nostrum. And then there is the French. And the Germans. And we barely have any sea access at all."
"We have ports."
Becker sighed. "We cannot change the past. Has our Navy been neglected? Yes, but now is not the time to change that. France and Germany are rising powers and determined to show the world their might. War is coming and without colonies, it will be land war. Whoever we fight, it will be with rifles, tanks, and airplanes not cruisers. The last two hundred years have made us one of the great economic and industrial powers of Europe but we do not have the money to piss away on battleships that will not save the nation as Europe goes through the bloodiest war in the last hundred years."
"The Vasan-Russian War was pretty bloody."
"That was a trial run, with limited numbers. All of Europe's rivers will run red."
"That's not a cheery thought Field Marshall."
"I would be very happy to be proven wrong, Mister Prime Minister. It is better to have them and not need them than to need them and not have them."
Constantinescu sighed. "You'll have your men."
"Thank you, Prime Mister."
It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.
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rhoenix
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#39
Mexico City
February, 1930
"Ostensibly to rebuff their KKK, was it?", asked Commandant-General de Icaza of his accompanying generals of the Armed Forces of the Republic of the Golden Sun.
"Yes, Commandant-General," replied General Mozzelo, commander of the Earth forces, as he walked with the others to the Commandant-General's meeting area. "The United States has noticeably increased their troop presence along our shared border. I believe that whether or not that is the case, the sympathizers in our Nimbus areas might also decide that now is a good time to stir up trouble again. I needn't remind all of you about how they tried to start riots over not having separate bathrooms."
"Indeed," replied General Arrancar. "They even tried to steal some of Mexico's planes, the filthy bastards. You have no idea what condition I got back the seven trainer birds they managed to steal from the Air School."
"Be that as it may," cut in the voice of the Commandant-General, "we must respond in kind. Also, General Garcia, what state is the Angeles de la Muerte de acogida in the Gulf?"
"I have heard of Germany's rattling of sabers in the Gulf. I will alert the Angeles de la Muerte de acogida there, and make sure the Admiral of that force has orders to...dissuade ideas of armed conflict there. If it dissuades the United States from getting ideas in the same, even better," replied General Garcia in a quiet voice. "It might be best to remind them that it is for everyone's benefit that the Panama Canal remain open."
"Well," replied General Arrancar as he sat down in one of the chairs surrounding the long, oblong meeting table, beginning to fold a paper airplane as he did, "I'll get some wings in the areas as well, to make sure we have some good intel from above."
"Very well," said the Commandant-General. "Mobilizing the Angeles de la Muerte de acogida in the area will solve two problems at once, and I see no harm in authorizing a combined forces order to support it. I also require the Atlantic-based Angeles de la Muerte de acogida to mobilize for the same reasons. Its high time we had more of our exercises anyway. Additionally, General Mozzelo, mobilize our land forces as you suggested near the places on the Mexico-U.S. border that they're building up as well. Let us make sure that they don't think it might be a good idea to...explore."
* * *
Ostia, Rome
February 1930
The large passenger boat finished docking, her long voyage at an end at last. Most of the passengers of the large vessel were surprised at the waiting crowds, but some cast amused and knowing glances at the odd trio who had accompanied them for the voyage. The three wore well-made, but somewhat worn hooded robes, two wearing a dark brown color, and the third wearing a deep red, with rather plain-looking clothes beneath them. All three wore a small dark wooden cross around their necks, but otherwise seemed unadorned and unjeweled.
The ship's doctor had fallen ill, and so had left early on in the voyage. What few of the passengers expected was that two of the three odd men in robes were, in fact, trained medical doctors from Mexico, and had brought along their medical bags. They had assisted the other passengers with healing, both of them having a kind and patient bedside manner. It had become a rumor that the one in the red robe was the Catholic Pope, and he had not denied it when asked as he helped another passenger deliver her second child. However, he had said that God had picked him to heal and shepherd his fellow man, and so would always be happiest letting everyone go before him.
It appeared that he had meant it, as the three disembarked last, though the former passengers looked on as the screaming crowds of cross-bearing people seemed to only get louder as the three men in robes appeared, looking somewhat unused to the noise, but walking forward regardless with smiles, ready to greet their Roman brethren and sistren.
February, 1930
"Ostensibly to rebuff their KKK, was it?", asked Commandant-General de Icaza of his accompanying generals of the Armed Forces of the Republic of the Golden Sun.
"Yes, Commandant-General," replied General Mozzelo, commander of the Earth forces, as he walked with the others to the Commandant-General's meeting area. "The United States has noticeably increased their troop presence along our shared border. I believe that whether or not that is the case, the sympathizers in our Nimbus areas might also decide that now is a good time to stir up trouble again. I needn't remind all of you about how they tried to start riots over not having separate bathrooms."
"Indeed," replied General Arrancar. "They even tried to steal some of Mexico's planes, the filthy bastards. You have no idea what condition I got back the seven trainer birds they managed to steal from the Air School."
"Be that as it may," cut in the voice of the Commandant-General, "we must respond in kind. Also, General Garcia, what state is the Angeles de la Muerte de acogida in the Gulf?"
"I have heard of Germany's rattling of sabers in the Gulf. I will alert the Angeles de la Muerte de acogida there, and make sure the Admiral of that force has orders to...dissuade ideas of armed conflict there. If it dissuades the United States from getting ideas in the same, even better," replied General Garcia in a quiet voice. "It might be best to remind them that it is for everyone's benefit that the Panama Canal remain open."
"Well," replied General Arrancar as he sat down in one of the chairs surrounding the long, oblong meeting table, beginning to fold a paper airplane as he did, "I'll get some wings in the areas as well, to make sure we have some good intel from above."
"Very well," said the Commandant-General. "Mobilizing the Angeles de la Muerte de acogida in the area will solve two problems at once, and I see no harm in authorizing a combined forces order to support it. I also require the Atlantic-based Angeles de la Muerte de acogida to mobilize for the same reasons. Its high time we had more of our exercises anyway. Additionally, General Mozzelo, mobilize our land forces as you suggested near the places on the Mexico-U.S. border that they're building up as well. Let us make sure that they don't think it might be a good idea to...explore."
* * *
Ostia, Rome
February 1930
The large passenger boat finished docking, her long voyage at an end at last. Most of the passengers of the large vessel were surprised at the waiting crowds, but some cast amused and knowing glances at the odd trio who had accompanied them for the voyage. The three wore well-made, but somewhat worn hooded robes, two wearing a dark brown color, and the third wearing a deep red, with rather plain-looking clothes beneath them. All three wore a small dark wooden cross around their necks, but otherwise seemed unadorned and unjeweled.
The ship's doctor had fallen ill, and so had left early on in the voyage. What few of the passengers expected was that two of the three odd men in robes were, in fact, trained medical doctors from Mexico, and had brought along their medical bags. They had assisted the other passengers with healing, both of them having a kind and patient bedside manner. It had become a rumor that the one in the red robe was the Catholic Pope, and he had not denied it when asked as he helped another passenger deliver her second child. However, he had said that God had picked him to heal and shepherd his fellow man, and so would always be happiest letting everyone go before him.
It appeared that he had meant it, as the three disembarked last, though the former passengers looked on as the screaming crowds of cross-bearing people seemed to only get louder as the three men in robes appeared, looking somewhat unused to the noise, but walking forward regardless with smiles, ready to greet their Roman brethren and sistren.
Last edited by rhoenix on Tue Dec 29, 2009 6:58 pm, edited 4 times in total.
"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."
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Josh wrote:What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.
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frigidmagi
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#40
"The Pacificans accepted our offer, my Lord." Chief Minister Sun observed as he sat by the fire and drank tea. It was late and growing somewhat cold and Sun was an old man. It was because of this that King Hong David II allowed him to sit while he stood walking to the window and back.
The window looked out over the Capital of Nanjing and it was a breath taking sight. The city had been all but destroyed by the civil war and rebuilding it had been one of the main projects of David's father. It was well planned, an industral city that wasn't a massive offense to the eyes like all to many in the west. The King had traveled when he was just the heir. He had seen Pacifican cities, American, Mexican, all sorts of European cities and Nanjing was unlike any of them! There were no slums or ghettos. No dank sectors of infernal sin where men spent their time drunkenly whoring or worse. Nanjing was the most beautiful city in the world and the most virutious.
The people, the workers who toiled in the mighty factories of the Kingdom, who worked to keep the city going lived in stately apartment buildings, that were well kept. Not drab plain concrete but red, yellow and a riot of other colors. Parks were laid out, island enclaves of green amidst the colors, to refresh the soul and the mind. Churches were scattered out amongst this like fruit trees, decorated with white crosses and crossed red swords. The roads were kept clean and washed. Any man who lacked for work would find the Kingdom had a job for him. For Sloath was a sin.
There were restantants, museuems, opera and art houses. The nobles and officers of the Kingdom lived closer to the palace in fenced townhouses the roads lined with flowerbeds. Above all this the palace rose like an arch angel keeping watch. A great city. A royal city. Not yet an imperial city. But soon.
"Good, we have to many enemies on the sea and not enough time or money to build new battleships. They will be helpful against the north." David replied smoothing his white and red robe.
"I am concerned about losing those 3 motorized divisions." The chief minister noted.
"They are more then replaced by the new orders and troops. Besides which it is not they who would be the deciding factor in the war is it?" The king asked.
"I supposed not, my Lord. Still the war is coming." Sun Yat Sen was not a timid man. He had led the battle in the south against the demon worshipping Japanese. Surrounded by hordes from the coast and from the south he had fought them back and destroyed no less then 3 field armies of the enemy. He was a hero blessed by God. Still he was not looking forward to the bloodbaths of the future. The North would not fall easily. Nor would Yunnan.
"It is, we can but prepare and make ready. I am not afriad." The King replied.
The window looked out over the Capital of Nanjing and it was a breath taking sight. The city had been all but destroyed by the civil war and rebuilding it had been one of the main projects of David's father. It was well planned, an industral city that wasn't a massive offense to the eyes like all to many in the west. The King had traveled when he was just the heir. He had seen Pacifican cities, American, Mexican, all sorts of European cities and Nanjing was unlike any of them! There were no slums or ghettos. No dank sectors of infernal sin where men spent their time drunkenly whoring or worse. Nanjing was the most beautiful city in the world and the most virutious.
The people, the workers who toiled in the mighty factories of the Kingdom, who worked to keep the city going lived in stately apartment buildings, that were well kept. Not drab plain concrete but red, yellow and a riot of other colors. Parks were laid out, island enclaves of green amidst the colors, to refresh the soul and the mind. Churches were scattered out amongst this like fruit trees, decorated with white crosses and crossed red swords. The roads were kept clean and washed. Any man who lacked for work would find the Kingdom had a job for him. For Sloath was a sin.
There were restantants, museuems, opera and art houses. The nobles and officers of the Kingdom lived closer to the palace in fenced townhouses the roads lined with flowerbeds. Above all this the palace rose like an arch angel keeping watch. A great city. A royal city. Not yet an imperial city. But soon.
"Good, we have to many enemies on the sea and not enough time or money to build new battleships. They will be helpful against the north." David replied smoothing his white and red robe.
"I am concerned about losing those 3 motorized divisions." The chief minister noted.
"They are more then replaced by the new orders and troops. Besides which it is not they who would be the deciding factor in the war is it?" The king asked.
"I supposed not, my Lord. Still the war is coming." Sun Yat Sen was not a timid man. He had led the battle in the south against the demon worshipping Japanese. Surrounded by hordes from the coast and from the south he had fought them back and destroyed no less then 3 field armies of the enemy. He was a hero blessed by God. Still he was not looking forward to the bloodbaths of the future. The North would not fall easily. Nor would Yunnan.
"It is, we can but prepare and make ready. I am not afriad." The King replied.
"it takes two sides to end a war but only one to start one. And those who do not have swords may still die upon them." Tolken
#41
About what I figured. Jan thought, his feet up on his desk in the privacy of his office. The dispatch from the Peacock Throne had arrived this morning, covered in the normal diplomatic fripperies. He knew there were some in the Navy who resented the Mughal's attitude towards Europeans, but Jan knew full well that was mostly because the Mughal Navy decisively outweighed the Vasan squadron in the Indian Ocean. There were too many commitments elsewhere that required the attention of a cruiser or battleship squadron that Danzig could afford to ensure local superiority over a power like the Mughals in their own waters. As much as the Russians no longer had much of a navy-the last war had put paid to that particular Romanov ambition-too many warships were still needed in the Baltic and Black Seas.
He had a bad habit of speaking aloud in his office when noone was around. He felt it allowed him to clear his thoughts so he could get more work done when his secretaries or ministers were around. If they thought the new King mad, well, he supposed there could be far more problematic issues he could suffer from instead.
"So we've got the same situation with the Mughals that we've had for almost two centuries now. Opportunity and danger all wrapped together. If we protest the actions of their warships too strongly, we look like we're condoning piracy. However, if we let the situation fester, we look weak in Europe, unable to protect our borders from a non-European power."
For all attitudes around the world had changed to an extent over the last century, as local powers from Central America to Asia had demonstrated they were every bit the equal of the European powers that had first linked global civilization together, more...old fashioned attitudes persisted in some European capitals. It was stupid, Jan thought, but he supposed at worst it allowed him to exploit that blindspot if the opportunity arose.
Hrm the Vasan thought, drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair. An idea struck him suddenly, and before he consciously realized it he was reaching for the buzzer to summon a secretary. As the dour woman who'd been his personal secretary for over ten years entered the room, scowl on face, he realized his feet were still on the desk. Grinning, he gestured. "Yes, I know Irina. Dignity of the throne and all that. Sit down, I need to dictate something to be sent over to the Foreign Minister tonight..."
He had a bad habit of speaking aloud in his office when noone was around. He felt it allowed him to clear his thoughts so he could get more work done when his secretaries or ministers were around. If they thought the new King mad, well, he supposed there could be far more problematic issues he could suffer from instead.
"So we've got the same situation with the Mughals that we've had for almost two centuries now. Opportunity and danger all wrapped together. If we protest the actions of their warships too strongly, we look like we're condoning piracy. However, if we let the situation fester, we look weak in Europe, unable to protect our borders from a non-European power."
For all attitudes around the world had changed to an extent over the last century, as local powers from Central America to Asia had demonstrated they were every bit the equal of the European powers that had first linked global civilization together, more...old fashioned attitudes persisted in some European capitals. It was stupid, Jan thought, but he supposed at worst it allowed him to exploit that blindspot if the opportunity arose.
Hrm the Vasan thought, drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair. An idea struck him suddenly, and before he consciously realized it he was reaching for the buzzer to summon a secretary. As the dour woman who'd been his personal secretary for over ten years entered the room, scowl on face, he realized his feet were still on the desk. Grinning, he gestured. "Yes, I know Irina. Dignity of the throne and all that. Sit down, I need to dictate something to be sent over to the Foreign Minister tonight..."
Dispatch to the Peacock Throne:
The Vasan Empire, so reliant on the lifeblood of trade between our colonies and homeland, certainly understands the Mughal desire to stamp out piracy and banditry on the oceans of our fair world. Our own efforts have had varying success over the years, and certainly we applaud our neighbors committing themselves to this endeavour as we do.
However, we still must ensure the integrity of our borders and the safety of our citizens. This can easily put one in a conundrum, as certainly Your Majesty can understand. If our positions were reversed, you would find the situation as vexing as we do now.
However, I would like to make a proposal for your consideration-a joint task force, of Mughal and Vasan naval units, acting in cooperation to sweep the waters around India of the menace of piracy. With our two great nations cooperating, such scum shall find no succor anywhere and will be eradicated. I do not claim this work will be easy, but then what task truly worth engaging in is?
If Your Majesty finds this idea amenable, I invite your foreign ministry to contact my own to discuss the matter. Alternatively, I will be traveling to our holdings in India this fall and would be willing to travel to your fair capital to discuss the matter in person.
Yours,
King Jan Erick, etc, etc.
Last edited by Slacker on Wed Dec 30, 2009 9:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
#42
March, 1930
Ethiopian Empire, Embassy of the Confederation
As the closest non-colonial power, the African Confederation had seen the logic of establish an embassy within the Empire from nearly the moment of its founding. As a result, steps had been immediately taken to establish diplomatic ties with the Ethiopians. The desire for relations had been due to a multitude of reasons. Firstly, there had been concern about the possibility of armed conflict with the Ethiopians. This was especially so after the Confederate armed forces had proven to be more capable than anticipated and had annexed along with popular support the entirety of Tanzania. The concern had been that with the Confederation to the south and west and the French to their north, the Empire may have felt surrounded on all sides by hostile forces. It had been the Confederation's desire to make certain that the Empire did not see the Confederation as an outright enemy. A competitor perhaps, but a force that had no designs on Ethiopian territory and most importantly of all, a fellow African power that looked upon the colonial holdings of European nations with a degree of distrust.
There were only two great African nations. The Freehold had the opportunity to be a third, but the realities of their forces prevented them from being able to project power in such a manner as to allow them to join the elite club that the Confederation and Empire were members of. Nonetheless, membership in the club did not lead to an actual, formalized alliance. The borders of the Confederation with the Empire were usually under-defended as a gesture of good will. Nonetheless, those borders could be reinforced and any potential incursions blunted by forces placed specifically to do that. The Confederation wanted the Empire as an ally, but it was something that its diplomatic corps had as of yet being unable to achieve. Majid Okoro was the ambassador to the Empire. His years of service in his current post made him the undisputed king of the Confederate embassy. He was also quite possibly, the best informed man in his nation in regards to the halls of power of the Empire and the personalities of its key players.
"Hmph. Civil War." Majid muttered as a steady stream of information was carried into his office by various members of his office. The information itself came from a veritable flood of sources within the Empire. Most of these sources were legitimate sources, men and women who had been swayed over the years to see the Confederation not as a potential enemy but as a potential friend. Some of those sources were less legitimate. Nonetheless, the greatest source of information was his own mind. He had observed and interacted with many of the personalities who would be involved in this conflict. It was from these exchanges and observations that he contrasted the information which was being made available to him.
His right hand moved as he reached for a Cuban cigar. There were members of his government that looked at the Romans with concern and perhaps more than a fair share of dislike. Those men and women were almost to a man, remnants of the Spanish elite who still remembered Rome as having shattered their home nation. He was far more practical in his thinking. Rome's actions against Spain had birthed the Confederation and for that, Rome would have his eternal respect and admiration. The cigar was lit up as he focused on the task at hand.
"Gugsa lacks the troops to take the capital. We know this, but this is only true as long as he cannot convince one of the major branches of the military to support him. Tafari is not well liked Yeggazu and Haymanot. The question is, can Gugsa exploit this and get either of those two men to support him? If so, this internal squabble gains the traction it needs to potentially topple the Empire from within. That little event would have Europeans circling like vultures. The French are the best positioned to capitulate." Majid said to himself. He enjoyed talking aloud as a means of organizing his thoughts. It was also a reason why he personally sweeped his room for bugs and other listening devices twice a day in an unpredictable pattern.
Majid sighed softly and chewed on his cigar. A part of him wanted to directly interfere with the developing civil war to the best of his ability. There were intelligence assets that he could utilize. He did not have the means to assassinate any of the key players and frankly, was grateful that he did not have such an ability. Having the power to do such a move would demand that he utilize it and removing a key player from the game now, risked a replacement that was far less predictable to take his place. Even more covert means of interference were somewhat unattractive. He risked years of work should Confederate involvement in the internal struggles of the Empire be discovered. He simply could not immediately see a gain that was worth the risk of failure. The labyrinth like halls of power of the Empire could be a twisting warren of misery to those that had been born into the system. To one outside of it? It was a daunting task indeed.
Ultimately, he settled on a path that offered some tangible benefits without over exposing his hand. He wrote several letters and gave them to agents within the embassy that he trusted to deliver them through the usual means. The prime minister would have the information that he demanded.
March 1930
Tanzania, Air Base 4
The orders arrive quickly and the three airships that had been in the process of being refueled and re-equipped received orders to launch with all haste and head towards the north east. Their task was to meet up with two other Airships already in station and establish a holding pattern that would allow the Confederation to keep an eye over the Indian Ocean. The Airships would stretch out in a line between the Seychelles and keep an eye out on the waters below. The Confederation wanted to keep itself informed of any unusual movements of naval vessels or simply shipping in that area of the ocean. Such deployments were uncommon but not unprecedented.
The three airships glided into the air with practiced ease before they as a group made their way towards the Indian Ocean and then once over international waters arched upwards. Several hours later they met up with their twins already in station and began their observations of the sea below them.
March 1930
Tanzania, Zanzibar Naval Base
ACNS Black Sword
The Black Sword had been the first of her class, a ship that no one had expected an African nation could be capable of building. Its firepower exceeded those of "normal" battleships by a significant amount, its armored decks were thick enough to shrug off the most potent of armor piercing bombs. It had been boasted that it would take two squadrons of submarines firing consistently to sink her through the usage of mere torpedoes. Her existence had sent shockwaves throughout the world. When five more such vessels were built, those shockwaves had led the way to stunned silence. To whom was such a display of force aimed? Foreign observers had wondered.
Zanzibar was the most heavily militarized port in the Confederation. And in Zanzibar, the Black Sword was Queen. Her location at the moment laid in her berth as a series of upgrades were added to her electrical and targeting systems. Confederate pride demanded that the latest systems after testing be integrated in the Black Sword first and then her twin sisters in the east. The Black Sword had not left port in over two months. It seemed that such orders were about to change. Admiral Feliciano Vargas, commanding officer of the Eastern Fleet read the orders that had been hand delivered to him moments before with a frown. He was not being told a great deal, but he was being asked to prepare a task force for the possibility of an imminent deployment.
A possible deployment where?
Ethiopian Empire, Embassy of the Confederation
As the closest non-colonial power, the African Confederation had seen the logic of establish an embassy within the Empire from nearly the moment of its founding. As a result, steps had been immediately taken to establish diplomatic ties with the Ethiopians. The desire for relations had been due to a multitude of reasons. Firstly, there had been concern about the possibility of armed conflict with the Ethiopians. This was especially so after the Confederate armed forces had proven to be more capable than anticipated and had annexed along with popular support the entirety of Tanzania. The concern had been that with the Confederation to the south and west and the French to their north, the Empire may have felt surrounded on all sides by hostile forces. It had been the Confederation's desire to make certain that the Empire did not see the Confederation as an outright enemy. A competitor perhaps, but a force that had no designs on Ethiopian territory and most importantly of all, a fellow African power that looked upon the colonial holdings of European nations with a degree of distrust.
There were only two great African nations. The Freehold had the opportunity to be a third, but the realities of their forces prevented them from being able to project power in such a manner as to allow them to join the elite club that the Confederation and Empire were members of. Nonetheless, membership in the club did not lead to an actual, formalized alliance. The borders of the Confederation with the Empire were usually under-defended as a gesture of good will. Nonetheless, those borders could be reinforced and any potential incursions blunted by forces placed specifically to do that. The Confederation wanted the Empire as an ally, but it was something that its diplomatic corps had as of yet being unable to achieve. Majid Okoro was the ambassador to the Empire. His years of service in his current post made him the undisputed king of the Confederate embassy. He was also quite possibly, the best informed man in his nation in regards to the halls of power of the Empire and the personalities of its key players.
"Hmph. Civil War." Majid muttered as a steady stream of information was carried into his office by various members of his office. The information itself came from a veritable flood of sources within the Empire. Most of these sources were legitimate sources, men and women who had been swayed over the years to see the Confederation not as a potential enemy but as a potential friend. Some of those sources were less legitimate. Nonetheless, the greatest source of information was his own mind. He had observed and interacted with many of the personalities who would be involved in this conflict. It was from these exchanges and observations that he contrasted the information which was being made available to him.
His right hand moved as he reached for a Cuban cigar. There were members of his government that looked at the Romans with concern and perhaps more than a fair share of dislike. Those men and women were almost to a man, remnants of the Spanish elite who still remembered Rome as having shattered their home nation. He was far more practical in his thinking. Rome's actions against Spain had birthed the Confederation and for that, Rome would have his eternal respect and admiration. The cigar was lit up as he focused on the task at hand.
"Gugsa lacks the troops to take the capital. We know this, but this is only true as long as he cannot convince one of the major branches of the military to support him. Tafari is not well liked Yeggazu and Haymanot. The question is, can Gugsa exploit this and get either of those two men to support him? If so, this internal squabble gains the traction it needs to potentially topple the Empire from within. That little event would have Europeans circling like vultures. The French are the best positioned to capitulate." Majid said to himself. He enjoyed talking aloud as a means of organizing his thoughts. It was also a reason why he personally sweeped his room for bugs and other listening devices twice a day in an unpredictable pattern.
Majid sighed softly and chewed on his cigar. A part of him wanted to directly interfere with the developing civil war to the best of his ability. There were intelligence assets that he could utilize. He did not have the means to assassinate any of the key players and frankly, was grateful that he did not have such an ability. Having the power to do such a move would demand that he utilize it and removing a key player from the game now, risked a replacement that was far less predictable to take his place. Even more covert means of interference were somewhat unattractive. He risked years of work should Confederate involvement in the internal struggles of the Empire be discovered. He simply could not immediately see a gain that was worth the risk of failure. The labyrinth like halls of power of the Empire could be a twisting warren of misery to those that had been born into the system. To one outside of it? It was a daunting task indeed.
Ultimately, he settled on a path that offered some tangible benefits without over exposing his hand. He wrote several letters and gave them to agents within the embassy that he trusted to deliver them through the usual means. The prime minister would have the information that he demanded.
March 1930
Tanzania, Air Base 4
The orders arrive quickly and the three airships that had been in the process of being refueled and re-equipped received orders to launch with all haste and head towards the north east. Their task was to meet up with two other Airships already in station and establish a holding pattern that would allow the Confederation to keep an eye over the Indian Ocean. The Airships would stretch out in a line between the Seychelles and keep an eye out on the waters below. The Confederation wanted to keep itself informed of any unusual movements of naval vessels or simply shipping in that area of the ocean. Such deployments were uncommon but not unprecedented.
The three airships glided into the air with practiced ease before they as a group made their way towards the Indian Ocean and then once over international waters arched upwards. Several hours later they met up with their twins already in station and began their observations of the sea below them.
March 1930
Tanzania, Zanzibar Naval Base
ACNS Black Sword
The Black Sword had been the first of her class, a ship that no one had expected an African nation could be capable of building. Its firepower exceeded those of "normal" battleships by a significant amount, its armored decks were thick enough to shrug off the most potent of armor piercing bombs. It had been boasted that it would take two squadrons of submarines firing consistently to sink her through the usage of mere torpedoes. Her existence had sent shockwaves throughout the world. When five more such vessels were built, those shockwaves had led the way to stunned silence. To whom was such a display of force aimed? Foreign observers had wondered.
Zanzibar was the most heavily militarized port in the Confederation. And in Zanzibar, the Black Sword was Queen. Her location at the moment laid in her berth as a series of upgrades were added to her electrical and targeting systems. Confederate pride demanded that the latest systems after testing be integrated in the Black Sword first and then her twin sisters in the east. The Black Sword had not left port in over two months. It seemed that such orders were about to change. Admiral Feliciano Vargas, commanding officer of the Eastern Fleet read the orders that had been hand delivered to him moments before with a frown. He was not being told a great deal, but he was being asked to prepare a task force for the possibility of an imminent deployment.
A possible deployment where?
The Peddler of Half Truths.
"Not OP, therefore weakest." - Cynical Cat (May 2016)
"A dog doesn’t need to show his teeth as long as his growl’s deep enough, his food bowl is full and he knows where all the bones are buried." - Frank Underwood
"Not OP, therefore weakest." - Cynical Cat (May 2016)
"A dog doesn’t need to show his teeth as long as his growl’s deep enough, his food bowl is full and he knows where all the bones are buried." - Frank Underwood
#43
March 3, 1930
Jaffna Naval Base, Sri Lanka
Mulugeta Yeggazu was sitting outside in the early morning, slowly sipping on a cup of coffee as he watched the men of his navy work on their docked ships, making certain they would be ready to cast off at a moments notice. He'd stayed out of the mess between the Vasan and the Mughal, but just in case it came to a fight he didn't want to get caught with his pants around his ankles. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a young man running towards him, carrying some sort of letter, Yeggazu made no movement to recognize the boy until he was there though. He set down his cup and looked at the boy who looked exhausted. "Yes?"
"Message for you sir!" The boy held out the piece of paper.
Yeggazu grabbed it and looked it over carefully, his dark skin paling some as he read. "By the glory of Mary, Mother of Christ."
The boy looked confused. "Sir?"
Yeggazu looked up at the boy. "Ras Gugsa Welle plans to remove Tafari Makonnen from his regency. He asks for my assistance."
The boy blinked. "Sir, that's treason!"
Yeggazu snorted a bit. "Hardly, it was Tafari that started this fight. He took power away from the Ras, practically declared himself Emperor while the Empress still sits on the throne."
The boy paused. "What are your orders sir?"
Yeggazu sighed. "I will not take action against the Empire. The Empress has not called upon me to take action and so I shall not."
The boy grinned. "Shall I sent a message to the capital informing them of this, Admiral?"
Yeggazu smiled just a little. "No. I have simply received a personal message, and the Empress is in no danger from this action."
The boy's grin faltered for a moment before he saluted. "Sir, as you command."
As the boy left, Yeggazu went back to drinking his coffee and watching his men work. He did not like Tafari, did not trust Tafari. But he would not strike against the Empire.
March 8, 1930
Addis Ababa, The Ethiopian Empire
Heruy Welde Sellase cursed as he read reports. The African Confederation was moving Airships to just outside of Ethiopia's borders and reports stated that the Black Sword was preparing to deploy. The Confederation, and more specifically Majid Okoro had always made gestures of peace, but with civil war brewing they were taking actions which seemed very much like they were preparing for something themselves. Tafari had ordered the Navy at Mokowe to unlimber and prepare themselves, just in case; and more flights on the border where the Airships had stationed themselves was in the midst of being inacted. Sellase sighed, it was going to be hard to keep the other nations in the world from getting involved in this.
Jaffna Naval Base, Sri Lanka
Mulugeta Yeggazu was sitting outside in the early morning, slowly sipping on a cup of coffee as he watched the men of his navy work on their docked ships, making certain they would be ready to cast off at a moments notice. He'd stayed out of the mess between the Vasan and the Mughal, but just in case it came to a fight he didn't want to get caught with his pants around his ankles. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a young man running towards him, carrying some sort of letter, Yeggazu made no movement to recognize the boy until he was there though. He set down his cup and looked at the boy who looked exhausted. "Yes?"
"Message for you sir!" The boy held out the piece of paper.
Yeggazu grabbed it and looked it over carefully, his dark skin paling some as he read. "By the glory of Mary, Mother of Christ."
The boy looked confused. "Sir?"
Yeggazu looked up at the boy. "Ras Gugsa Welle plans to remove Tafari Makonnen from his regency. He asks for my assistance."
The boy blinked. "Sir, that's treason!"
Yeggazu snorted a bit. "Hardly, it was Tafari that started this fight. He took power away from the Ras, practically declared himself Emperor while the Empress still sits on the throne."
The boy paused. "What are your orders sir?"
Yeggazu sighed. "I will not take action against the Empire. The Empress has not called upon me to take action and so I shall not."
The boy grinned. "Shall I sent a message to the capital informing them of this, Admiral?"
Yeggazu smiled just a little. "No. I have simply received a personal message, and the Empress is in no danger from this action."
The boy's grin faltered for a moment before he saluted. "Sir, as you command."
As the boy left, Yeggazu went back to drinking his coffee and watching his men work. He did not like Tafari, did not trust Tafari. But he would not strike against the Empire.
March 8, 1930
Addis Ababa, The Ethiopian Empire
Heruy Welde Sellase cursed as he read reports. The African Confederation was moving Airships to just outside of Ethiopia's borders and reports stated that the Black Sword was preparing to deploy. The Confederation, and more specifically Majid Okoro had always made gestures of peace, but with civil war brewing they were taking actions which seemed very much like they were preparing for something themselves. Tafari had ordered the Navy at Mokowe to unlimber and prepare themselves, just in case; and more flights on the border where the Airships had stationed themselves was in the midst of being inacted. Sellase sighed, it was going to be hard to keep the other nations in the world from getting involved in this.
Last edited by Charon on Thu Dec 31, 2009 1:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Moderator of Philosophy and Theology
-
Lonestar
- Acolyte
- Posts: 28
- Joined: Tue Sep 04, 2007 3:26 pm
- 17
- Location: In a Van, down by the Potomac River!
#44
The Executive Office, Republic of the Platte
Deep in the basement of the Casa Rosada the president of the Platte Republic stared down at the worm tied to a chair. His special police had alreayd worked over the man, the traitor after the discovery of him selling state secrets to the Yanquis(a term that was applied to all North Americans). After the professionals had finished, the President had arrived. Looking up through a face swollen and bruised, the traitor murmured.
"Please...please presidente. This is not legal..."
The President laughed at the worm. Most citizens long ago realized that the Constitution was more of a rough outline rather than something to be grasped to the breast. After all, the constitution assumed that the people must be protected, and who better to protected it then the President?
"Fool. The law is for the innocent, not traitors." The President responded. "You disgust me. You would betray your nation for your 30 pieces?"
"It...was a bean production report...."
"Vital economic data sold to the highest bidder to further Yankee businessmen. By your own mouth you are damned. Doubly damned," The President shook his head sadly "Because you contaminated your family. Your wife and oldest son will have to be re-educated, while your younger son shall be given to a loyal family. As for you..." He turned and jerked a thumb. The two Republican Guardsmen stepped forward, to haul the traitot off to the execution yard.
Just another day of work for Astro Único, the President of the Republic of the River Platte.
Deep in the basement of the Casa Rosada the president of the Platte Republic stared down at the worm tied to a chair. His special police had alreayd worked over the man, the traitor after the discovery of him selling state secrets to the Yanquis(a term that was applied to all North Americans). After the professionals had finished, the President had arrived. Looking up through a face swollen and bruised, the traitor murmured.
"Please...please presidente. This is not legal..."
The President laughed at the worm. Most citizens long ago realized that the Constitution was more of a rough outline rather than something to be grasped to the breast. After all, the constitution assumed that the people must be protected, and who better to protected it then the President?
"Fool. The law is for the innocent, not traitors." The President responded. "You disgust me. You would betray your nation for your 30 pieces?"
"It...was a bean production report...."
"Vital economic data sold to the highest bidder to further Yankee businessmen. By your own mouth you are damned. Doubly damned," The President shook his head sadly "Because you contaminated your family. Your wife and oldest son will have to be re-educated, while your younger son shall be given to a loyal family. As for you..." He turned and jerked a thumb. The two Republican Guardsmen stepped forward, to haul the traitot off to the execution yard.
Just another day of work for Astro Único, the President of the Republic of the River Platte.
And any man who may be asked in this century what he did to make his life worth while, I think can respond with a good deal of pride and satisfaction: "I served in the United States Navy!" -J.F.K.
#45
"This is confirmed?"
"Yes, it is not expected to impact our commercial interests negatively, however the raising of tensions may interrupt trade. In addition there are sighting reports of Confederation airships concentrating near the Seychelles."
"Annoying but expected. The usual response to remind them that the Seychelles are ours, of course."
"Of course, I would recommend also delaying the deployment of Strike Fleet to anti-piracy work and instead sending them to the Seychelles for... rest and training, yes?"
"For what reason?"
"The Black Swords are moving as well." came the simple response.
"Agreed. Sato will probably renew her request for more funding for the new big carriers in response, of course."
"She renews that request if we so much as take a breath." came the expected chuckle. "She'll get more of her favorite toys soon enough, the engineers have improvements they'd like to make on the design before we build more."
"Sure, blame the engineers."
"It always worked before."
----------
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
The 'Furious Fourth' Patrol Airship Wing will be deploying to dispersal facilities in the Seychelles in support of previously scheduled rapid self deployment training exercises to be conducted over the next several weeks. Other units deployments will be announced as they are finalized for this years exercise schedule. Operational posture and rules of engagement are not altered at this time.
----------
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
The Madagascar Freehold affirms her desire for peaceful coexistence with all of our neighbors and extends our best wishes to our friends in the Ethiopian Empire and our sincere hopes for a peaceful resolution of the current unpleasantness. Trade conditions are evaluated as remaining undisturbed at this time, and all Freehold citizens are advised that no changes in economic or political relations are expected. Further bulletins will be released as appropriate.
----------
(private communique subsequently 'leaked' to local media)
TO: Foreign Ministry - African Confederation
The Consortium of the Madagascar Freehold notes the increased operational tempo of your airship units near the Seychelles. So long as there are no active hostilities, your units are welcome to make use of refueling and emergency shelter facilities within the Seychelles proper at standard commercial rates. All local Freehold units shall be monitoring our established emergency wireless band in the event of difficulty, and as always the Freehold Weather Service reports are available. Peaceful skies and calm seas to our friends in the Confederation.
----------
(private communique subsequently 'leaked' to local media)
TO: Foreign Ministry - Ethiopian Empire
The Consortium of the Madagascar Freehold extends our hopes of a peaceful resolution of the current unpleasantness within your borders. Your actions to secure the safety and property of foreign nationals within your capital are greatly appreciated. In light of the unexpected crisis, we are formally advising your government of the previously scheduled exercises currently underway in the Seychelles Operational Area. Again, our best wishes for a swift and peaceful resolution of the current troubles.
"Yes, it is not expected to impact our commercial interests negatively, however the raising of tensions may interrupt trade. In addition there are sighting reports of Confederation airships concentrating near the Seychelles."
"Annoying but expected. The usual response to remind them that the Seychelles are ours, of course."
"Of course, I would recommend also delaying the deployment of Strike Fleet to anti-piracy work and instead sending them to the Seychelles for... rest and training, yes?"
"For what reason?"
"The Black Swords are moving as well." came the simple response.
"Agreed. Sato will probably renew her request for more funding for the new big carriers in response, of course."
"She renews that request if we so much as take a breath." came the expected chuckle. "She'll get more of her favorite toys soon enough, the engineers have improvements they'd like to make on the design before we build more."
"Sure, blame the engineers."
"It always worked before."
----------
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
The 'Furious Fourth' Patrol Airship Wing will be deploying to dispersal facilities in the Seychelles in support of previously scheduled rapid self deployment training exercises to be conducted over the next several weeks. Other units deployments will be announced as they are finalized for this years exercise schedule. Operational posture and rules of engagement are not altered at this time.
----------
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
The Madagascar Freehold affirms her desire for peaceful coexistence with all of our neighbors and extends our best wishes to our friends in the Ethiopian Empire and our sincere hopes for a peaceful resolution of the current unpleasantness. Trade conditions are evaluated as remaining undisturbed at this time, and all Freehold citizens are advised that no changes in economic or political relations are expected. Further bulletins will be released as appropriate.
----------
(private communique subsequently 'leaked' to local media)
TO: Foreign Ministry - African Confederation
The Consortium of the Madagascar Freehold notes the increased operational tempo of your airship units near the Seychelles. So long as there are no active hostilities, your units are welcome to make use of refueling and emergency shelter facilities within the Seychelles proper at standard commercial rates. All local Freehold units shall be monitoring our established emergency wireless band in the event of difficulty, and as always the Freehold Weather Service reports are available. Peaceful skies and calm seas to our friends in the Confederation.
----------
(private communique subsequently 'leaked' to local media)
TO: Foreign Ministry - Ethiopian Empire
The Consortium of the Madagascar Freehold extends our hopes of a peaceful resolution of the current unpleasantness within your borders. Your actions to secure the safety and property of foreign nationals within your capital are greatly appreciated. In light of the unexpected crisis, we are formally advising your government of the previously scheduled exercises currently underway in the Seychelles Operational Area. Again, our best wishes for a swift and peaceful resolution of the current troubles.
-
Comrade Tortoise
- Exemplar
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Thu Jun 09, 2005 1:33 am
- 19
- Location: Land of steers and queers indeed
- Contact:
#46
March 8th 1930
From:Deutches Federalische Republik
To: US State Department
We apologize for any misunderstanding with regard to our forces in the Caribbean. As a show of good faith, we have already dispatched orders to remove the requested assets from the region. These units will be replaced with infantry and fighter craft some time within the next year. The naval assets are more problematic, as much of the support personell will need to be moved as well. We should have the requested assets moved to a location that achieves our strategic objectives without compromising your security within the month. Unless of course we can reach a mutually beneficial arrangement such that the provision is not necessary. We would like to invite your President to Bilateral Talks to this effect.
From:Deutches Federalische Republik
To: US State Department
We apologize for any misunderstanding with regard to our forces in the Caribbean. As a show of good faith, we have already dispatched orders to remove the requested assets from the region. These units will be replaced with infantry and fighter craft some time within the next year. The naval assets are more problematic, as much of the support personell will need to be moved as well. We should have the requested assets moved to a location that achieves our strategic objectives without compromising your security within the month. Unless of course we can reach a mutually beneficial arrangement such that the provision is not necessary. We would like to invite your President to Bilateral Talks to this effect.
Last edited by Comrade Tortoise on Fri Jan 01, 2010 1:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Nothing in biology makes sense except in the light of evolution."
- Theodosius Dobzhansky
There is no word harsh enough for this. No verbal edge sharp and cold enough to set forth the flaying needed. English is to young and the elder languages of the earth beyond me. ~Frigid
The Holocaust was an Amazing Logistical Achievement~Havoc
- Theodosius Dobzhansky
There is no word harsh enough for this. No verbal edge sharp and cold enough to set forth the flaying needed. English is to young and the elder languages of the earth beyond me. ~Frigid
The Holocaust was an Amazing Logistical Achievement~Havoc
-
Comrade Tortoise
- Exemplar
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Thu Jun 09, 2005 1:33 am
- 19
- Location: Land of steers and queers indeed
- Contact:
#47
Hamburg Germany:
Rommel paced back and forth in his office with Dietrich Hardlich, the Secretary of the Navy, a cigarette in his mouth ranting.
"Those miserable fucking americans, thinking they can dictate policy outside their own territories! Remind me again why we gave in to their demands?"
"Because logistically they control the region and can mobilize their military faster, thus allowing them to occupy our territory before we could respond, they have a bigger military than ours and have a superiority complex that compels them to use it at the slightest provocation. The simple fact is, any colonies we possess in the CaribbeanYe exist at their pleasure. They can bend us over a keg if they wish"
"Oh that's right... Miserable bastards. I cant wait to see how the Romans react to having their ships told to fuck off. How long until we have the artillery and bombers out?"
"Two weeks, they will be sent to reinforce our Austrian border, their replacements will be fresh fighters and artillery from this year's construction"
"That leaves us open"
"I know. Which is why we are moving the carriers from Cape Town to Replace the battleships we need to move from the Caribbean. The two groups will meet in the middle."
"and the Americans are alright with this?"
"Yes. We have made sure it will not bother them."
"How long with transit take?"
"Approximately a month. Moving that much support personnel takes time, plus the actual transit time."
"Alright. I will have our state department issue a formal, and public, apology. We would not want it said that we were not gracious in accepting our 'error', now would we? If they decide to be aggressive after that it will be on them"
Rommel paced back and forth in his office with Dietrich Hardlich, the Secretary of the Navy, a cigarette in his mouth ranting.
"Those miserable fucking americans, thinking they can dictate policy outside their own territories! Remind me again why we gave in to their demands?"
"Because logistically they control the region and can mobilize their military faster, thus allowing them to occupy our territory before we could respond, they have a bigger military than ours and have a superiority complex that compels them to use it at the slightest provocation. The simple fact is, any colonies we possess in the CaribbeanYe exist at their pleasure. They can bend us over a keg if they wish"
"Oh that's right... Miserable bastards. I cant wait to see how the Romans react to having their ships told to fuck off. How long until we have the artillery and bombers out?"
"Two weeks, they will be sent to reinforce our Austrian border, their replacements will be fresh fighters and artillery from this year's construction"
"That leaves us open"
"I know. Which is why we are moving the carriers from Cape Town to Replace the battleships we need to move from the Caribbean. The two groups will meet in the middle."
"and the Americans are alright with this?"
"Yes. We have made sure it will not bother them."
"How long with transit take?"
"Approximately a month. Moving that much support personnel takes time, plus the actual transit time."
"Alright. I will have our state department issue a formal, and public, apology. We would not want it said that we were not gracious in accepting our 'error', now would we? If they decide to be aggressive after that it will be on them"
"Nothing in biology makes sense except in the light of evolution."
- Theodosius Dobzhansky
There is no word harsh enough for this. No verbal edge sharp and cold enough to set forth the flaying needed. English is to young and the elder languages of the earth beyond me. ~Frigid
The Holocaust was an Amazing Logistical Achievement~Havoc
- Theodosius Dobzhansky
There is no word harsh enough for this. No verbal edge sharp and cold enough to set forth the flaying needed. English is to young and the elder languages of the earth beyond me. ~Frigid
The Holocaust was an Amazing Logistical Achievement~Havoc
#48
March 10th, 1930
Washington D.C., White House Press Room
"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for your time, I would like to start off this session by saying that I have good news. The Germans have, after long negotiations, withdrawn their heavy assets from the Caribbean. As we speak, the German assault forces are withdrawing while our Navy observes from a safe distance. The German Government, to their credit, have publicly apologized for escalating tensions in our southern coasts, and have requested a US presence at a European Trade summit, which hopefully will reduce tensions in Europe as well. Now, as far as the situation with Mexico, we are in negotiations with the Mexican Government to send in our troops to root out the criminals that escaped prosecution, but very little headway has been made. Now then, I will start taking questions..."
Oval Office
"So, Jon, going to that damn trade summit?" Alan asked, an eyebrow raised.
"I thought about it, but then I also thought about sending you." The President responded.
"Jon, I thought we were friends, I'm hurt!" the Vice-President mocked being hurt, causing President Kincaid to chuckle.
"Well look at the bright side, they'd at least make sure you'd have pretty blonde girls giving you lots of beer before they tried to kill you."
"Hmm, tempting, but let's just send our diplomat. Depending on how well he does, he might see his star on the rise, unlike that poor bastard Beswick." Vice President Vicious remembered the man's departure fondly, wondering if soon a similar or opposite fate would pass over Bill Hodge, the diplomat to Germany. "Now, what about Mexico?"
"Yes, about that..."
****Special Communique to German Government****
Due to unavoidable duties, the President of the United States is unable to join your Trade Summit, but in his place sends Ambassador Hodge to aid in talks.
****Secret Communique to Rome****
****Secret Communique to England****
****Secret Communique to Russia****
****Secret Communique to Spain****
****Secret Communique to Poland****
****Secret Communique to Hungary****
****Secret Communique to Mughul Empire****
****Secret Communique to France****
****Secret Communique to Republic of the Platte****
****Secret Communique to African Confederation****
****Secret Communique to Pacifica****
****Secret Communique to Ethiopian Empire****
Washington D.C., White House Press Room
"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for your time, I would like to start off this session by saying that I have good news. The Germans have, after long negotiations, withdrawn their heavy assets from the Caribbean. As we speak, the German assault forces are withdrawing while our Navy observes from a safe distance. The German Government, to their credit, have publicly apologized for escalating tensions in our southern coasts, and have requested a US presence at a European Trade summit, which hopefully will reduce tensions in Europe as well. Now, as far as the situation with Mexico, we are in negotiations with the Mexican Government to send in our troops to root out the criminals that escaped prosecution, but very little headway has been made. Now then, I will start taking questions..."
Oval Office
"So, Jon, going to that damn trade summit?" Alan asked, an eyebrow raised.
"I thought about it, but then I also thought about sending you." The President responded.
"Jon, I thought we were friends, I'm hurt!" the Vice-President mocked being hurt, causing President Kincaid to chuckle.
"Well look at the bright side, they'd at least make sure you'd have pretty blonde girls giving you lots of beer before they tried to kill you."
"Hmm, tempting, but let's just send our diplomat. Depending on how well he does, he might see his star on the rise, unlike that poor bastard Beswick." Vice President Vicious remembered the man's departure fondly, wondering if soon a similar or opposite fate would pass over Bill Hodge, the diplomat to Germany. "Now, what about Mexico?"
"Yes, about that..."
****Special Communique to German Government****
Due to unavoidable duties, the President of the United States is unable to join your Trade Summit, but in his place sends Ambassador Hodge to aid in talks.
****Secret Communique to Rome****
****Secret Communique to England****
****Secret Communique to Russia****
****Secret Communique to Spain****
****Secret Communique to Poland****
****Secret Communique to Hungary****
****Secret Communique to Mughul Empire****
****Secret Communique to France****
****Secret Communique to Republic of the Platte****
****Secret Communique to African Confederation****
****Secret Communique to Pacifica****
****Secret Communique to Ethiopian Empire****
Last edited by Hotfoot on Sat Jan 02, 2010 9:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
#49
Early Morning
January 13, 1930
Gatchina Palace, Gatchina,
45 km South of Sankt-Peterburg,
Rossiya
While the Imperial family's official residence remained the Winter Palace, as it had been since Pyotr I Velikiy moved the capital to Peterburg, in practical terms that had not been the case since four sepearate assassination attempts around 1880 had nearly succeeded in killing Aleksandr II. After the fourth one, the Tsesarevich was able to prevail upon his father to move the primary residence elsewhere, as the Winter Palace proved simply impossible to secure. Though he started spending more time at his secondary residence at Gatchina, the Imperator could not be convinced to move out of Peterburg entirely, instead opting to relocate to Peterhof. The Tsesarevich, for his part, found "Russia's Versailles" too ostentatious for his tastes, and made his residence at the Anichkov Palace when in the capital. Upon ascending to the throne, Aleksandr III then unofficially moved the court to the Gatchina Palace.
In spite of its austere exterior, the Gatchina Palace is not exactly known for being spare in its furnishings. Most hallways and rooms are sumptuously well appointed with tiles, stuccos, bas-reliefs, murals, mosaics, stained glasses, lattices, paintings, furnitures, and various other artistries of the most exquisite workmanship. Virtually every wall, floor, and ceiling had been painstakingly decorated, and a mere glance would give anyone the impression of fabulous wealth.
The room in which the Imperator i Avtocrat of All the Russias sat is not, however, one of those rooms. While far and away from being spartan, the administrative needs Russia's extensive domains had forced practicality on the office room of its ruler. Only old paintings - restored by its owner in his spare time - and fairly simple carpets decorate the floors and walls; while the furniture, though of elegant construction and fine craftsmanship, is largely functional.
On that cold January morning Aleksandr III's desk was a mess of papers, binders, over stuffed folders, and half open filing cabinets. Evidence that work had given him little rest for several days.
The Tsar looked worn, very old, and one would have said frail if not for the imposing size of his frame. Across from him sat a man whom, in any other context, one might have described as large, but at that moment seemed but average. Both men had long since gone completely bald, and the both of them sported prodigious facial hair, with long beards and thick mustaches turned grey-white by the passage of time.
"I have looked at your report on Mongol'skiya Operatsiya," Aleksandr's basso profundo rumbled out, "and found it nearly unreadable. Pyotr Arkadyevich, you know I have not the time to wade through pages and pages of endless minutia to get to the principal facts. I appreciate the intricate detail to which the plan has been drawn, and the staffs behind it have all rights to be proud of it, but my energies are finite and I only require a general overview. I was, however, able to gather from it that all the principal pieces are in place."
"My apologies your Majesty," the Chairman of the Sovyet Ministrov replied, "I will pass your comments along. They are eager, and indeed everything is ready to proceed upon receiving your command. GRU and Okhrana's Foreign Branch has begun preliminary infiltration and we have found the perfect front man for the whole thing."
"The Baltic Baron?"
The Chairman nodded.
"Tell me about him."
"Major-General Roman Fyodorovich von Ungern-Sternberg. He comes from a family with a long history of loyal service to Russia: seventy-two of its members have given their lives for the Rodina. The man is a highly competent if eccentric commander. Completely devoid of any decorum that is expected of an officer, to say nothing of a Baron, and often given to outbursts of violence due to a highly volatile temper, he regardless commands the adoring loyalty of his troops. What the General lacks in temperance is made-up by a surfeit of bravery and guile. He was decorated multiple times during the War for both personal heroism and effective command.
von Ungern-Sternberg's name first came up because of his command of the Asiatic Cavalry, and he almost immediately became the prime candidate. It is well known that he harbours an obsession with the lives, cultures, and histories of steppe tribesmen. In particular the Mongol and Oryat peoples, of whom he has learned even their languages. The fluency alone would be enough, but more thorough investigation has revealed that he has also been taken in by Eastern mysticism, and is something of a practising Buddhist. All have agreed, though some grudgingly, that there is no one better suited for the job."
The Avtocrat's aged brow doubled its furrows in askance, "A Buddhist?"
Despite his devotion to Orthodox Faith's Catholic Church*, Aleksandr III could be a surprisingly tolerant man. It was on his personal authorization, over the Church's most strenuous protestations, that a magificient Buddhist temple had been built in the middle of his capital city. Yet he was still a fundamentally conservative man, and the idea of entrusting such a sensitive task to an apostate did not sit well.
Graf Pyotr Arkadyevich Stolypin had worked closely with his sovereign for many years, and he well understood the angle of the question.
"In his own way, the Baron is still loyal to Orthodoxy and Autocracy. His beliefs can be more accurately described as a syncretic mix of both the original Orthodox faith and the adopted Eastern beliefs that fascinate him so. He is still Christian enough that his oddities do not bother his fellows too much, but we believe that he also Buddhist enough for the Mongolians to count him as a co-religionist. The psych profile suggests he'll likely drift further into Eastern mysticism, but his belief in the necessity of a strong ruler to guide every nation is likely to remain as strong as ever.
We have, however, planned for the eventuality of his becoming inconvenient for our purposes. The Major-General will be taking several members of his staff along with him, and one of them will be a GRU sleeper agent. I don't know which member - his existence is not even mentioned in the report - but should things start breaking down, the agent can be activated and charged with fixing it.
My Gossudar, you know that I could never stand the military intelligence types. But I have talked with the people they have on this, and I'm willing to trust their judgement."
"If they are certain that they have it covered, and you see no reason to question them, then neither do I. However, I do want to know if there have been any other major changes to the operation's planning."
"Only one major change, and I had been intending to discuss it with you."
The Tsar motioned for his Chairman-Minister to continue.
Stolypin's voice became clinical, detached, and unemotional. "It has been discovered that there is considerable potential for sowing anti-Jewish sentiment in Buddhist communities and exploiting it to our purposes. To that end, the Major-General has been given the secondary mission of convincing the Khan that Jews are a threat to all that is good and civilized, then rooting out and eliminating Jewish subversive activity."
"There are Yid vipers in Mongolia?" Aleksander asked in surprise.
"Not truly. A few communities here and there, sure, but they are mostly harmless and not far above the level of being negligible. It's enough, though, and once they start hunting for secret Jews it will no longer matter how many there are.
The groundwork for reaching that point has already been laid by generations of Russian-born Buddhist monks. They have exported Russias' suspicion of Jewry to Tibet and Mongolia, even the Dalai Lama is convinced they are a threat. All that is needed is something to set it off. That something will be evidence of a massive conspiracy that we will provide to von Ungern-Sternberg when the time is right. A book titled, The Protocols of the Elders of Zion."
"The Protocols of... ah, that farce cooked up by Okhrana's Paris division." The Imperator was not amused. "I ordered all copies confiscated three decades ago after an investigation conducted on your initiative uncovered the origin of that filth. You cannot be serious."
"I do not like it any more than your Majesty does, but the case made by the Okhrana is a strong one. The reason why they are useful for our purposes is the same as the reason why your Majesty banned them. The Protocols are masterful propaganda material, written out of the sort of lies that people are most willing to believe. Making them available to the Dalai Lama and Javzandamba Khutagt at the right time earn us their gratitude for having warned them of the threat to their domains, and allow our Baron the opportunity to gain more influence with them by handling the situation decisively."
Aleksander sighed. "I know you find it distasteful Pyotr Arkadyevich. I should not have snapped at you like that," he said apologetically. "However, if we are going to play it this way then I must demand that measures be taken so that my subjects are not consumed by it. If any Russian - even if one of those damned Yids - is in danger, then they and their families must be removed from harms way. If necessary the Okhrana will use its agents in coordination with the embassy in Urga to do it. Is that clear?"
"Yes your Magesty. Anything else?"
"Yes, one more thing. You mentioned that our man has a violent temper, this concerns me."
"The von Ungern-Sternbergs are a warrior breed. Peace tries their patience because they are poorly unsuited for it. That is why Roman Fyodorovich has such a hot temper. Yet, he can keep it somewhat under control if he's given something to do. Things like training recruits, exploring the wilderness, and taking a formation out on manoeuvres -which is to say preparing for war - should be sufficient to maintain a not too far from reasonable level of calm. As he'll likely be doing plenty of all those things in Mongolia, it should be alright. Though certainly a war breaking out in Kitay would be quite the joyous development for him. It's actually rather likely that if not for us putting him up to it, he may have resigned his commission and offered his services to the Khan on his own accord sooner or later."
"Very well then, I am thoroughly satisfied and will be signing off my approval. Thank you, Pyotr Arkadyevich."
"Thank you, your Majesty," Stolypin said, rising. "Shall I dispatch someone to brief your heir on the particulars?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Oh?"
Imperator i Avtocrat Aleksandr III smiled wearily, "A test of intrigue. Get me the head of the Okhrana, I think there's a leak he needs to patch up."
Summary:
Baron von Ungern-Sternberg, a well decorated and successful Mayor-General in the Russian Imperial Army, has been sent into Mongolia to offer his services as a military advisor to the Khan.
*Catholic means "universal", while Orthodox means "true". The official name of the main Christian religious organization in Russia is the Orthodox Catholic Church. Generally the Russian Church refers to itself as an organization as being Catholic, and its faith as being Orthodox. So in plain English the official names is something like, "The True Faith of the Universal Church". I was totally going to refer to the Church in Romanized Russian, but I'm not sure I have the right words.
January 13, 1930
Gatchina Palace, Gatchina,
45 km South of Sankt-Peterburg,
Rossiya
While the Imperial family's official residence remained the Winter Palace, as it had been since Pyotr I Velikiy moved the capital to Peterburg, in practical terms that had not been the case since four sepearate assassination attempts around 1880 had nearly succeeded in killing Aleksandr II. After the fourth one, the Tsesarevich was able to prevail upon his father to move the primary residence elsewhere, as the Winter Palace proved simply impossible to secure. Though he started spending more time at his secondary residence at Gatchina, the Imperator could not be convinced to move out of Peterburg entirely, instead opting to relocate to Peterhof. The Tsesarevich, for his part, found "Russia's Versailles" too ostentatious for his tastes, and made his residence at the Anichkov Palace when in the capital. Upon ascending to the throne, Aleksandr III then unofficially moved the court to the Gatchina Palace.
In spite of its austere exterior, the Gatchina Palace is not exactly known for being spare in its furnishings. Most hallways and rooms are sumptuously well appointed with tiles, stuccos, bas-reliefs, murals, mosaics, stained glasses, lattices, paintings, furnitures, and various other artistries of the most exquisite workmanship. Virtually every wall, floor, and ceiling had been painstakingly decorated, and a mere glance would give anyone the impression of fabulous wealth.
The room in which the Imperator i Avtocrat of All the Russias sat is not, however, one of those rooms. While far and away from being spartan, the administrative needs Russia's extensive domains had forced practicality on the office room of its ruler. Only old paintings - restored by its owner in his spare time - and fairly simple carpets decorate the floors and walls; while the furniture, though of elegant construction and fine craftsmanship, is largely functional.
On that cold January morning Aleksandr III's desk was a mess of papers, binders, over stuffed folders, and half open filing cabinets. Evidence that work had given him little rest for several days.
The Tsar looked worn, very old, and one would have said frail if not for the imposing size of his frame. Across from him sat a man whom, in any other context, one might have described as large, but at that moment seemed but average. Both men had long since gone completely bald, and the both of them sported prodigious facial hair, with long beards and thick mustaches turned grey-white by the passage of time.
"I have looked at your report on Mongol'skiya Operatsiya," Aleksandr's basso profundo rumbled out, "and found it nearly unreadable. Pyotr Arkadyevich, you know I have not the time to wade through pages and pages of endless minutia to get to the principal facts. I appreciate the intricate detail to which the plan has been drawn, and the staffs behind it have all rights to be proud of it, but my energies are finite and I only require a general overview. I was, however, able to gather from it that all the principal pieces are in place."
"My apologies your Majesty," the Chairman of the Sovyet Ministrov replied, "I will pass your comments along. They are eager, and indeed everything is ready to proceed upon receiving your command. GRU and Okhrana's Foreign Branch has begun preliminary infiltration and we have found the perfect front man for the whole thing."
"The Baltic Baron?"
The Chairman nodded.
"Tell me about him."
"Major-General Roman Fyodorovich von Ungern-Sternberg. He comes from a family with a long history of loyal service to Russia: seventy-two of its members have given their lives for the Rodina. The man is a highly competent if eccentric commander. Completely devoid of any decorum that is expected of an officer, to say nothing of a Baron, and often given to outbursts of violence due to a highly volatile temper, he regardless commands the adoring loyalty of his troops. What the General lacks in temperance is made-up by a surfeit of bravery and guile. He was decorated multiple times during the War for both personal heroism and effective command.
von Ungern-Sternberg's name first came up because of his command of the Asiatic Cavalry, and he almost immediately became the prime candidate. It is well known that he harbours an obsession with the lives, cultures, and histories of steppe tribesmen. In particular the Mongol and Oryat peoples, of whom he has learned even their languages. The fluency alone would be enough, but more thorough investigation has revealed that he has also been taken in by Eastern mysticism, and is something of a practising Buddhist. All have agreed, though some grudgingly, that there is no one better suited for the job."
The Avtocrat's aged brow doubled its furrows in askance, "A Buddhist?"
Despite his devotion to Orthodox Faith's Catholic Church*, Aleksandr III could be a surprisingly tolerant man. It was on his personal authorization, over the Church's most strenuous protestations, that a magificient Buddhist temple had been built in the middle of his capital city. Yet he was still a fundamentally conservative man, and the idea of entrusting such a sensitive task to an apostate did not sit well.
Graf Pyotr Arkadyevich Stolypin had worked closely with his sovereign for many years, and he well understood the angle of the question.
"In his own way, the Baron is still loyal to Orthodoxy and Autocracy. His beliefs can be more accurately described as a syncretic mix of both the original Orthodox faith and the adopted Eastern beliefs that fascinate him so. He is still Christian enough that his oddities do not bother his fellows too much, but we believe that he also Buddhist enough for the Mongolians to count him as a co-religionist. The psych profile suggests he'll likely drift further into Eastern mysticism, but his belief in the necessity of a strong ruler to guide every nation is likely to remain as strong as ever.
We have, however, planned for the eventuality of his becoming inconvenient for our purposes. The Major-General will be taking several members of his staff along with him, and one of them will be a GRU sleeper agent. I don't know which member - his existence is not even mentioned in the report - but should things start breaking down, the agent can be activated and charged with fixing it.
My Gossudar, you know that I could never stand the military intelligence types. But I have talked with the people they have on this, and I'm willing to trust their judgement."
"If they are certain that they have it covered, and you see no reason to question them, then neither do I. However, I do want to know if there have been any other major changes to the operation's planning."
"Only one major change, and I had been intending to discuss it with you."
The Tsar motioned for his Chairman-Minister to continue.
Stolypin's voice became clinical, detached, and unemotional. "It has been discovered that there is considerable potential for sowing anti-Jewish sentiment in Buddhist communities and exploiting it to our purposes. To that end, the Major-General has been given the secondary mission of convincing the Khan that Jews are a threat to all that is good and civilized, then rooting out and eliminating Jewish subversive activity."
"There are Yid vipers in Mongolia?" Aleksander asked in surprise.
"Not truly. A few communities here and there, sure, but they are mostly harmless and not far above the level of being negligible. It's enough, though, and once they start hunting for secret Jews it will no longer matter how many there are.
The groundwork for reaching that point has already been laid by generations of Russian-born Buddhist monks. They have exported Russias' suspicion of Jewry to Tibet and Mongolia, even the Dalai Lama is convinced they are a threat. All that is needed is something to set it off. That something will be evidence of a massive conspiracy that we will provide to von Ungern-Sternberg when the time is right. A book titled, The Protocols of the Elders of Zion."
"The Protocols of... ah, that farce cooked up by Okhrana's Paris division." The Imperator was not amused. "I ordered all copies confiscated three decades ago after an investigation conducted on your initiative uncovered the origin of that filth. You cannot be serious."
"I do not like it any more than your Majesty does, but the case made by the Okhrana is a strong one. The reason why they are useful for our purposes is the same as the reason why your Majesty banned them. The Protocols are masterful propaganda material, written out of the sort of lies that people are most willing to believe. Making them available to the Dalai Lama and Javzandamba Khutagt at the right time earn us their gratitude for having warned them of the threat to their domains, and allow our Baron the opportunity to gain more influence with them by handling the situation decisively."
Aleksander sighed. "I know you find it distasteful Pyotr Arkadyevich. I should not have snapped at you like that," he said apologetically. "However, if we are going to play it this way then I must demand that measures be taken so that my subjects are not consumed by it. If any Russian - even if one of those damned Yids - is in danger, then they and their families must be removed from harms way. If necessary the Okhrana will use its agents in coordination with the embassy in Urga to do it. Is that clear?"
"Yes your Magesty. Anything else?"
"Yes, one more thing. You mentioned that our man has a violent temper, this concerns me."
"The von Ungern-Sternbergs are a warrior breed. Peace tries their patience because they are poorly unsuited for it. That is why Roman Fyodorovich has such a hot temper. Yet, he can keep it somewhat under control if he's given something to do. Things like training recruits, exploring the wilderness, and taking a formation out on manoeuvres -which is to say preparing for war - should be sufficient to maintain a not too far from reasonable level of calm. As he'll likely be doing plenty of all those things in Mongolia, it should be alright. Though certainly a war breaking out in Kitay would be quite the joyous development for him. It's actually rather likely that if not for us putting him up to it, he may have resigned his commission and offered his services to the Khan on his own accord sooner or later."
"Very well then, I am thoroughly satisfied and will be signing off my approval. Thank you, Pyotr Arkadyevich."
"Thank you, your Majesty," Stolypin said, rising. "Shall I dispatch someone to brief your heir on the particulars?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Oh?"
Imperator i Avtocrat Aleksandr III smiled wearily, "A test of intrigue. Get me the head of the Okhrana, I think there's a leak he needs to patch up."
Summary:
Baron von Ungern-Sternberg, a well decorated and successful Mayor-General in the Russian Imperial Army, has been sent into Mongolia to offer his services as a military advisor to the Khan.
*Catholic means "universal", while Orthodox means "true". The official name of the main Christian religious organization in Russia is the Orthodox Catholic Church. Generally the Russian Church refers to itself as an organization as being Catholic, and its faith as being Orthodox. So in plain English the official names is something like, "The True Faith of the Universal Church". I was totally going to refer to the Church in Romanized Russian, but I'm not sure I have the right words.
#50
March 19, 1930
Mexico City
The delegation that had been sent to smooth over relations with Mexico met in the American Consulate's secure briefing room, a heavy air filling the air between the four men. Marcus Vassal, Arnold Danerico, Bartholomew Boone, and Alfred Cook looked over the information in front of them. "Well men," Marcus started, "the situation is getting pretty bad. We're getting pressure from on high to wrap this up quickly. I've even been told to use the situation with Germany to expedite matters, publicly."
"Publicly, huh? Well that's going to make things rough," Arnold frowned, shuffling around his papers. "At the very least, I've been able to establish a large number of contacts, we've got quite a bit of information here. It's not as solid as I'd like yet, but we're getting there."
Bart shook his head, "Look, I still need to trace the money trail, but we're not going to do that here. We're going to need to get some mobility. I could put a team on it, but the only one available is the one from section group fourteen, and they're not known for being subtle."
Alfred shrugged, "All I know is that I need to talk to some of the prisoners and see what they will talk about. I'm pretty sure I can be persuasive, and we do need to know where support from the KKK came from, don't we?"
Marcus nodded, "Yes, we do. Unfortunately we may not like where it leads. Now we can try and use our diplomatic rights to escape the worst of it, but there's no way this ends cleanly. I've put in a request for Vice President Vicious to help with the negotiations. If nothing else, they'll let us leave with him should it go as poorly as I think it might, there's no way they would risk an international incident by holding someone of his stature hostage. We, however, do not share the same luxury. Hell, the man can cuss out the President." The comment elicited a laugh from the other men. "Still, I don't think we'll get much headway without some extra pep."
"Marcus, are you sure about this? Vicious isn't exactly known for being diplomatic," Arnold sipped a glass of water, glad that the Mexicans had at least managed to figure out basic sanitation. "There's still a lot of digging we need to do here."
Marcus sighed, "Trust me, I know. Still, I don't see any other options, and we are being pressed for time. Speed is better than clean right now, because it looks like war is inevitable. Now then, Alfred, how about those Mexican troop movements?"
New York Times
March 21, 1930
HEADLINE: Talks with Mexico Break Down, Vicious Called to Salvage
Page 2: More troops move to reinforce the US/Mexico Border as tensions rise
Page 3: KKK Terrorists still at large in Mexico
Page 5: Mexico still silent about German escalation in the Caribbean
Page 6: (OPED) Will Rome stand down with German withdrawal?
Page 10: Disney animated film still on top
Mexico City
The delegation that had been sent to smooth over relations with Mexico met in the American Consulate's secure briefing room, a heavy air filling the air between the four men. Marcus Vassal, Arnold Danerico, Bartholomew Boone, and Alfred Cook looked over the information in front of them. "Well men," Marcus started, "the situation is getting pretty bad. We're getting pressure from on high to wrap this up quickly. I've even been told to use the situation with Germany to expedite matters, publicly."
"Publicly, huh? Well that's going to make things rough," Arnold frowned, shuffling around his papers. "At the very least, I've been able to establish a large number of contacts, we've got quite a bit of information here. It's not as solid as I'd like yet, but we're getting there."
Bart shook his head, "Look, I still need to trace the money trail, but we're not going to do that here. We're going to need to get some mobility. I could put a team on it, but the only one available is the one from section group fourteen, and they're not known for being subtle."
Alfred shrugged, "All I know is that I need to talk to some of the prisoners and see what they will talk about. I'm pretty sure I can be persuasive, and we do need to know where support from the KKK came from, don't we?"
Marcus nodded, "Yes, we do. Unfortunately we may not like where it leads. Now we can try and use our diplomatic rights to escape the worst of it, but there's no way this ends cleanly. I've put in a request for Vice President Vicious to help with the negotiations. If nothing else, they'll let us leave with him should it go as poorly as I think it might, there's no way they would risk an international incident by holding someone of his stature hostage. We, however, do not share the same luxury. Hell, the man can cuss out the President." The comment elicited a laugh from the other men. "Still, I don't think we'll get much headway without some extra pep."
"Marcus, are you sure about this? Vicious isn't exactly known for being diplomatic," Arnold sipped a glass of water, glad that the Mexicans had at least managed to figure out basic sanitation. "There's still a lot of digging we need to do here."
Marcus sighed, "Trust me, I know. Still, I don't see any other options, and we are being pressed for time. Speed is better than clean right now, because it looks like war is inevitable. Now then, Alfred, how about those Mexican troop movements?"
New York Times
March 21, 1930
HEADLINE: Talks with Mexico Break Down, Vicious Called to Salvage
Page 2: More troops move to reinforce the US/Mexico Border as tensions rise
Page 3: KKK Terrorists still at large in Mexico
Page 5: Mexico still silent about German escalation in the Caribbean
Page 6: (OPED) Will Rome stand down with German withdrawal?
Page 10: Disney animated film still on top